Gravity Falls: A Jersey Girl's Tale
by Anonymous Traveler
Summary: Isannah wanted to get away from home and live a new life. But she got more than she bargained for when she signed up as a tenant for the Mystery Shack. And with a summer semester of college, twin siblings to watch, and a cranky great-uncle who doesn't seem to have a clue, it'll take a lot faith for Isannah to live (and survive) in Gravity Falls. Isannah is my OC.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Ah, summer break. A time for leisure, recreation, and taking 'er easy. Unless you're me.

_Scene_: CRASH! A golf cart crashes through a large sign displaying "Welcome to Gravity Falls." The three passengers on board, two tweens and an older teenager, scream as they fly through, land twenty below, veer over small slope and continue driving and screaming into a forest. Behind them, an enormous unidentifiable monster shoves trees to the ground in pursuit of them.

"It's getting closer!" cries a girl in the front seat. As a boy in the front seat next to her continues driving on a path cut through the woods, the monster tromps after them. It tries to grasp the vehicle, but continually misses. The golf cart veers over a pile of rocks and flies twirling into the air, but lands safely and continues driving down the path and away from the oncoming threat behind them.

My name is Isannah. The kid driving us is Dipper, and the girl about to puke is his sister, Mabel. You may be wondering what we're doing in a golf cart fleeing from a creature of unimaginable horror.

_Scene_: The said monster of unimaginable horror picks up a pine tree and throws it over the cart and onto the path ahead, blocking further access.

"Look out!" Mabel cries. The three of them scream as Dipper veers all over the road, trying to avoid a collision with the felled tree.

_-FREEZE FRAME-_

Rest assured, there is a perfectly logical explanation.

_-cue Gravity Falls theme song-_

_A/N: Yes, I did just use the first scene of the first episode to start the story. It seemed fitting (besides, it was so much easier than being creative and coming up with my own idea). The rest of the story, as implied, will take place within the actual episodes of Gravity Falls. Let's face it, we want to be a part of the story too. Don't expect anything to be too radically altered from the original (but I'm not making any promises :) )._ AIFKU PDA OPKNU!


	2. Ch 1: Tourist Trapped: Trust No One

Chapter 1: Tourist Trapped: Trust No One

Let's get properly acquainted.

I am Isannah Tannenbaum, a nineteen-year-old college student with no idea of what I want to do with the major I plan to graduate in. You could miss me in a crowd, because I look like any other blonde-haired, green-eyed Pennsylvania Dutch girl. I moved to New York when I was eight, and then later to New Jersey when I was about sixteen. I've been a Jersey girl ever since, and it's as bad as they say.

I found this community college in rural Oregon. It offered a degree in English that I desired, and it was in the middle of nowhere, far from my parents. I obviously didn't tell my parents that __this __was one of the reasons why I wanted to move across the country on my own. I told them another reason, and this one above all else convinced them to let me go: I was called by God to go there.

That isn't a lie. I really did feel like God wanted me to go there, like He was whispering__"I want you here. This is where your life will begin." __My parents, being a pastor and a pastor's wife, reluctantly believed me and reluctantly agreed to let me go, on the condition that I would call them every morning and evening, and would e-mail or else video message them as well.

When I told them that the place I was staying at was a place in Gravity Falls, my father protested. But for whatever reason, he let me go. Perhaps it was a matter of thought or a matter of prayer, but all I cared about was that I was going.

I left home with three cell phones, two first aid kits, five copies of emergency phone numbers, several packs of dehydrated food, a life jacket, and even a warning flare.

"Just in case," Dad told me. I was still rolling my eyes after security pulled me over to check my luggage.

With that sort of reception at the airport, I half-dreaded how I would be received in Oregon. With my usual apparel being a cardigan from the 70's and a pair of washed out jeans, I didn't think I would be outright rejected. But I couldn't know what West Coast culture would hold for me.

When I got to Gravity Falls, it was what I was expecting and at the same time not. I mean it was as stereotypical as a sleepy rundown town could get, but when I followed a twin brother and sister out of the bus and formally met Mr. Stanford Pines, I soon found that this place was beyond the bounds of stereotyping nonconformity.

Especially with a name like "Mystery Hack."

It was after the children introduced themselves to Mr. Stanford Pines, their great-uncle, that I decided to introduce myself as well.

"Hi, Mr. Pines."

"Hello and welcome to the Mystery Shack, home to the most amazing and mysterious of … mysteries. What can I interest you in?"

"How about leasing me a room?" I handed him the page that I printed detailing the accommodations he promised tenants of his home. "I can pay the first two months rent, but I'll be searching around for a job so I can keep up the pay for the next month."

After reading over the web page, Mr. Pines held it u saying, "This page is outdated. The rent was raised from two hundred a month to five."

"What?"

"Yeah, I, uh, that is, my handy man never got around to updating it."

This seemed just slightest suspicious, but I was too flustered to really notice. "But I don't have enough to pay. Can't you lower the rent?"

I was answered with a deadpanned face, and a "No."

"Is there a bed 'n breakfast anywhere around?"

"Nearest motel is thirty miles outside of town. Why?"

"I've got to stay somewhere for school. Guess I'd better wait for the next bus – "

"Hey hey now! Wait a minute! I can negotiate. Look, how 'bout I cut you a deal: as long as you work here at the Mystery Shack and keep an eye on these here kids, you will have the privilege of livin' here … and cookin', cleanin', and doin' all the chores that I don't like. If you do a really good job, I might even pay you. I'll even throw in unlimited access to the Mystery Cart, a one of kind vehicle. You're gettin' yourself a deal here. What do ya say?"

I knew from just passing through the main street of the town that this place was a stranger to Day Inns and apartments. And without my own means of transportation, getting anywhere by bus was sure to become expensive. With little choice, I signed a hastily scribbled binding document.

But when I walked inside and saw all the taxidermed animals with mismatched anatomies, runic lettering chiseled into the door frames and walls, and overpriced merchandise, I felt my gut drop.

"You're the first ever leased tenant in the famous Mystery Shack," said Stan with satisfaction as I followed him and the twins inside. "Congratulations!"

__I just made the worst mistake of my life,__I thought.

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The first few days working in the Mystery Shack were just a little unnerving, to say the least. I mean, I didn't really trust Dipper and Mabel's Great-Uncle Stan, or "Grunkle Stan" as they called him. Not just because he was an obvious conman, but also because of the weird things he put inside the Mystery Shack. How was I to know if some the merchandise or tourist attractions weren't illegal? After I admitted that I was a Christian, he didn't seem too keen on trusting me either. I still had to watch the kids, but he looked at me warily. I could guarantee him the feeling was mutual.

What definitely made things easier, or at least a little less painful, was the fact that the Pines twins were suffering the same as I was, or at least Dipper was. Mabel was his fun-loving, fun-making sister who wore braces and sweaters of all colors, styles, and materials, and when she saw that I had packed toe socks in my luggage and had a stranger taster in clothing that she did, we found a common thread. She just saw nothing dislikeable about the place she and her brother were shipped to for the entire summer. I guess she was also pretty psyched about having me to do makeovers with (__not__my favorite activity), to style my hair ( my __very__favorite activity), and to sort of be like an older sister for the summer. She even dubbed me her "Summer Sister."

Dipper was a more serious but awkward guy, who's trademark was a green baseball cap with a star stitched into it. He didn't share her enthusiasm and was having trouble adjusting as much as I was. They both had to work in the Shack like I did, but while she was so cheerful about meeting new people (particularly of the masculine persuasion), he just thought about how unfair it was that his great-uncle was by-passing child labor laws by having his family do work unpaid. He also wasn't thrilled that he was twelve years old and had to be babysat (or that the goat that lived on the grounds of his great uncle's business enjoyed eating everything that belonged to him). I could guarantee him the feeling was mutual.

I don't even need to go into detail about the college I enrolled in, Gravity Falls Community College. It was really just an ancient one-room schoolhouse with about ten local students, and ten professors. I didn't mind my new school except for one blistering detail: the place had no air conditioning.

So, yeah, this was going to be my life for the whole summer. Reading past entries in my diary from between the lens in my glasses, I knew that this was either going to be an outrageous summer semester, or a tediously boring one.

Until the day Dipper found a secret, Mabel got a boyfriend, and I got spanked.

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"He's looking at it! He's looking at it!" Mabel whispered excitedly behind a shelf of Stanford Pines bobble heads ( those are easier on the eyes the real Stan, by the way). I was sweeping the remnants of a broken snow-globe, and out of curiosity decided to see who her latest victim was: another boy who was reading a note she left on a barrel by a shelf. The boy read the note out loud.

"Uh... 'Do you like me?'" and then he read the choices given to him below the question. "'Yes. Definitely. Absolutely?'" He glanced around nervously, and I had to stifle a giggle and a roll of my eyes.

"I rigged it," Mabel said with triumph.

"Mabel," called her brother, who was wiping a jar of eyeballs. "I know you're going through your whole 'boy crazy' phase, but I think you're kinda overdoing it with the crazy part."

"Wha-aaat?" she asked, blowing a cross-eyed raspberry in reply. "Come __on__, Dipper! This is our first summer away from home. It's my big chance to have an Epic Summer Romance."

"Yeah, but do you need to flirt with __every__guy you meet?" he asked.

I personally flashbacked to all the moments she flirted with every boy she met here in town:

-The first poor soul was a customer in the Mystery Shack."My name is Mabel, but you can call me 'The Girl of Your Dreams.' I'm joking!" she shoved the guy she was addressing into the rack of postcards he was looking at, and he collapsed into it while she continued to laugh at her own joke. (I wasn't pleased to have to clean and rearrange that rack.)-

-We were in the park, and there was a boy was sitting on a bench, with a turtle in his lap, when she popped behind him. "Omigosh, you like turtles? I like turtles too! _What. Is. Happening. Here_?"-

-I don't remember why, but we were in a mattress store, and there was a guy dressed like a medieval prince and standing next to a group of balloons taped to a SALE sign, advertising for the store.

"Come one, come all," he called. "To the Mattress Prince's Kingdom of Savings!"

Mabel appeared between the balloons and whispered to him, "_Take me with you._" Of course, he screamed.-

"He's right, Mabel, you've got it bad," I said from across the room.

"Mock all you want," said Mabel. "But I got a good feeling about this summer. I wouldn't be surprised if the man of my dreams walked through that door __right now__." She confidently pointed back to the museum entrance that lead into the gift shop.

Sure enough, through the entrance walked... Grunkle Stan, with some arrow signs under one arm, and a Pitt soda gut, belching, and regretting the heartburn he must have been feeling now. "BLECH! Ah, that's not good!"

"Ohhh, why?" asked a disgusted Mabel, while Dipper and I laughed. "Someone call a doctor," I called, emptying a dust pan of broken glass, "because I think that Stan __and __Mabel are gonna be sick!"

"Alright alright, look alive people!" commanded Stan. "I need someone to go hammer up these signs in the spooky part of the forest."

"Not it!" replied Dipper, Mabel, and I almost simultaneously.

"Ah... also not it," said another employee with beaver teeth and a heavy figure who was drilling a new shelf into the wall.

"Nobody asked you, Soos," replied the sarcastic manager.

"I know," Soos replied. "And I'm comfortable with that." He took a bite out of a chocolate bar in his hand.

"Wendy," Stan called to the girl behind the cash register. "I need you to put up this sign!"

Wendy, a red-head fifteen-year-old, who had her feet propped up on the registering desk, was reading a magazine. "I would, but I... can't... reach it," she said, not looking up, and pretending to straining to reach the signs.

"I'd fire all of you if I could," remarked Stan. "Alright, let's make it, eenie, meenie, minee... You!" He pointed to Dipper.

"What?" asked Dipper incredulously. "Grunkle Stan, whenever I'm in those woods, I feel like I'm being watched."

"Uhh," sighed Stan. "This again."

"I'm telling you, something weird is going on in this town. Just today my mosquito bites spelled out 'BEWARE.'" He pulled back his short sleeve, revealing the mosquito message.

"That says 'BEWARB,'" his great-uncle replied, still weirded out all the same.

Dipper glanced at the red bites, and scratched them apprehensively.

"Look kid," Stan said, "the whole 'monsters in the forest thing' is just local legend, drummed up by guys like me, to sell merch to guys like that." He gestured to a tourist, who was holding a Stanford Pines bobble head, and looking way too excited about it.

"So quit being so paranoid," was Stan's final word to Dipper, as he tossed him the signs and left him to his task. Dipper sighed and went outside to get to work.

As he exited, I placed the broom and dustpan back in a closet, and Stan came up behind me and asked, "Isannah, you busy?"

I was surprised but recovered. "Um, not at the moment, why?" I was afraid of what task my honesty was gonna land me with.

"Follow Dipper."

"Again? No offense, sir, but I think watching him all the time is what's making him paranoid. Besides, he knows those woods better than I do. Why not let him complete that task without a spy?"

"Because as much as I want the kid to build character at the risk of whatever trauma he may suffer, I don't want him to get lost in the process."

It was the first caring sentence he ever uttered about his family's welfare.

"Also, you're under a contract to watch and protect him, so get to it."

I resigned to the task, then Mabel said. "I'll help. I can track Dipper like a bloodhound can track a trail of blood."

"That's comforting," I replied, grossed out. Then Mabel paused as another guy stepped into the gift shop.

"But first, I've got a heart to steal." She headed in the poor boy's direction.

I sighed and went outside, following the path that Dipper took, into the spooky part of the forest.

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The sky was a bleak color, and the pines swayed ominously. Dipper morosely hammered signs on the surrounding trees leading to the Shack.

"Ugh, Grunkle Stan," muttered Dipper, hammering another nail into a tree trunk. "Nobody ever believes anything I say." He hung a sign advertising the Mystery Shack on the nail, and sullenly walk to another one.

He pounded a nail on a moldy tree trunk, but was surprised when the hammer on the nail cause the trunk to make a strange sound. A sound like a metallic echo. He then removed the nail, and pressing his ear to the trunk, tapped the hammer on the trunk several times, listening to the sound. He felt the surface of the trunk, and found it to be dusty and smooth, and pulled back what seemed to be the edge of bark, but instead found it to be a tiny door, like that of a locker. Behind the door were cobwebs, and a strange rusty computing device, with buttons, switches, and a cracked screen. Dipper glanced around, making sure that no one was in sight. He then tried moving one of the switches, and then tried the other. Behind him, a well hidden door in the ground opened up. He turned around, and walked up to it.

"What the-?" He looked in the hole in the ground. Inside, dressed in cobwebs and crawling with millipedes, was a dusty book. Dipper removed the book from inside, blew the dust off the cover, and saw on the cover a golden six fingered hand with a "3" pressed in the palm.

He placed the book on the ground, making furtive glances over his shoulder, and opened the book. On the inside of the cover, he saw the owner of the book had been blotted out, and found a monocle, but placed it back inside, and flipped to the first page, covered in cursive writing. The date was marked June 18th. He read:

"'It's hard to believe it's been six years since I began studying the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls, Oregon." He flipped the page, and found the other page with a photo and drawing of eyes and something about "floating eyeballs," while the page next to it was about giant vampire bats. He flipped to another page which featured information about gnomes, and still another about "cursed doors."

"What is all this?" he asked himself, flipping page after page. "'Unfortunately my suspicions have been confirmed,'" he read. "I'm being watched. I must hide this book before He finds it. Remember- in Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust.'" Written underneath in large print was the repeated message: TRUST NO ONE!

Dipper closed the book. "'No one you can trust,'" he quoted thoughtfully.

"HELLO!" shouted Mabel and I cheerfully behind him on a rotten log. Dipper gasped in surprise, fumbled the book in his hands, and caught and grasped it tightly. Mabel caught up with me on the trail a half hour later, and we both plotted to scare him in the most natural way possible. I couldn't help myself. The sister in me loves causing trouble for brothers.

"Whatcha reading? Some nerd thing?" asked his sister.

"Uh-uh," Dipper turned to face us, hiding the book behind him. "It's nothing!"

"'Uh-uh, it's nothing,'" she mimicked him, and laughed. "Are you actually _not_ gonna show us?"

"We're not gonna stop asking until you do," I warned.

"Uh," Dipper glanced the goat who used to live in his room. It was chewing on a corner of the book binding. "Let's go somewhere private."

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"It's amazing!" exclaimed Dipper. "Grunkle Stan said I was being paranoid, but according to this book, Gravity Falls has this secret dark side."

"Whoa," replied his sister, awed. "_Shut. _UP." She shoved the book in fake disbelief.

We were in the living room on the other side of the Mystery Shack that was our residence, and while I was sipping a bottle of water, Dipper was exposing his discovery of the journal in the woods.

"And get this!" he continued. "After a certain point, the pages just stop, like the guy who was writing it mysteriously disappeared."

"This is some mad crazy stuff, dude," I commented. "Say, this is book could help me with my education."

"What do you mean?" asked Dipper, closing the book.

"Well, I have an essay to write for my history class, and if this book mentions anything pertaining to the history of this town, then I could-"

"No! You can't tell anyone about this book," answered Dipper.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Iz, you have to understand, this is __top secret__. The author of this book said 'In Gravity Falls, there's _no one_ you can trust.' We can't risk that the wrong person might try to get this book from us."

"Don't worry, I won't tell a living soul," I assured Dipper. "I won't even write about it in my journal. My mind is a closed book."

The doorbell rang. "Who's that?" asked Dipper. We never got visitors to the actual house part of the Shack.

"Well, time to spill the beans," said Mabel from her position on the arm of an easy chair. She reached her finger, said "Poke," and tipped over an empty bean can on the dinosaur skull that served as a TV table. "Beans."

__Typical Mabel, __I thought.

"This girl's got a date," she told us. "Whoo whoo!" She fell back on the couch with her braced smile beaming with self satisfaction.

"Let me get this straight," replied her brother with a "You-gotta-be-kidding-me" look on his face, "In the half hour I was gone, you already found a _boyfriend_?"

"What can I say?" replied Mabel, retracting back onto the arm of the easy chair. "I guess I'm just irresistible."

"Please assure me that he __isn't __some shady character from a suspicious side of town," I begged her. The doorbell rang again and again.

"Oh! Coming!" she called, rushing to answer the door. As she left, Dipper sat in the chair himself, and reopened the journal. I took another swig from my water bottle, and contemplated this new situation. I personally didn't believe that kids Mabel's age should be dating. Nothing against twelve-year-olds, but at that age, no one is mature enough to handle a boy/girlfriend relationship.

"What cha reading there, Slick?" asked Grunkle Stan, who happened to walk by, drinking yet another Pitt soda can.

Dipper jumped at his sudden appearance. "Oh! I was just"-he stuffed the book under a pillow on the chair, and pulled a magazine lying on the dinosaur skull- "catching up on, uh..." He flipped the magazine to the cover page. "'Gold Chains for Old Men Magazine?'"

"That's a good issue," his great-uncle remarked. While Stan took a sip of his can, and Dipper flipped open the magazine, the three of us heard Mabel call "Heeeeeey, Family!" and turned towards the door way where she stood. I assumed she meant me as well, what being her "Summer Sister" and all.

"Say 'hello' to my new boyfriend!" she said. His back was turned to us, but he turned to face us upon introduction. I stared in shock, and my wrist slacked and water from my bottle spilled on the floor. He was a creepy hoodie with legs, half his deathly pale face shrouded in the shadow of his hood and his hair, and a voice that sounded too raspy for even a pubescent boy to possess. The left shoulder of his hoodie was torn, and a stick seemed to grow from the top of his hood like an antler. He struck me (and no doubt everyone else in the room) as somehow simply __unnatural__.

"'Sup?" he asked causally.

"Hey," replied Dipper uneasily.

"How's it hangin'?" replied Stan.

"You've got a stick in your head," was all I could think to say.

Dipper and Stan looked at me.

"You might want to get that checked, just saying." I just realized I had tipped my whole bottle on the floor, and was too self-conscience to say anything more.

"We met at the cemetery," Mabel explained. She rubbed her hand on his sleeve. "He's __so __deep. Ooo, little muscle there," she remarked in surprise. She pinched his sleeve, and got bashful. "What a surprise." Her boyfriend looked bored and somewhat annoyed.

I was about to ask what Mabel was doing in the cemetery – an obviously suspicious side of town – in the first place, but her brother beat me to the punch. "Soooo, what's your name?" asked Dipper, giving him a scrutinizing look. Stan just sipped his soda.

"Uh... normal... MAN!" he replied with a shifty look in his face.

"He's mean Norman," explained Mabel. She was totally enthralled, even while he continued to appear annoyed.

"Are you bleeding, Norman?" asked Dipper, pointing to Norman's face. Sure enough, something red was oozing and dripping off his cheek.

Norman was unnerved. "It's jam," he replied.

Mabel gasped. "I __love__jam!" she exclaimed, giving him a shove. "_Look. At. This!_" She gestured between the two of them.

_So __that's __how you're compatible,_ I remarked to myself, rolling my eyes. By now, Dipper was off the chair, clearly unhappy with the shady character who Mabel picked to be her date. Stan took his place on the couch, taking up the magazine of gold chains. Apparently that was more interesting to him.

"So, you wanna go, hold hands or, whatever?" Norman asked Mabel.

"Oh, oh my goodness," remarked Mabel, giddy with happiness. "Don't wait up!" she called to us, hurrying out of the door frame in the direction of the front door. Her boyfriend signaled "See ya around" to me and Dipper, then staggering, bumped and slumped his way through the hall to the front door. I heard several fragile objects shatter as they impacted the ground.

Dipper and I looked at each other, both thinking the same thing: something wasn't right about "Norman."

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I followed Dipper upstairs to an unused room in the attic, mostly empty except for a window seat and the red window pane shaped like the "all seeing eye." That window gave me the heebie-jeebies, but I followed Dipper in anyway, and read over his shoulder. He decided to consult the journal. If there was anything that could help us figure out a character like Norman in Gravity Falls, he figured that the journal could point us in the right direction. I wasn't so positive the book would have anything about "normal men" in it's pages, but looked over Dipper's shoulder all the same.

He found a drawn picture of a decomposing figure rising from a grave, and read: "'Known for their pale skin and bad attitudes, these creatures are often mistaken for... teenagers!'" He exclaimed.

I read the rest of the passage. "'Beware Gravity Falls' nefarious...'"

We gasped. The drawn figure looked __exactly __like Norman!

"Zombie!" yelled Dipper. His voice echoed throughout the rafters of the house.

In a bathroom, Stan heard the exclamation. "Somebody say 'crombie?'" he asked, puzzled. "What is that, crombie? It's not even a word." He focused his attention on his reflection. "You're losing your mind."

Meanwhile, back in the attic room, Dipper and I heard a sound like "unnhh" from outside, and looked out the window. On a picnic table outside the Mystery Shack, sat Mabel, while Norman was slowly approaching her, arms outstretched in the typical zombie pose. The undead sounds were coming from him.

"I like you," said Mabel in complete innocence as the apparent danger approached her face.

"Oh no!" I yelled.

"Mabel!" Dipper screamed.

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	3. Ch2: Tourist Trapped:Gnomes Attack

Chapter 2: Tourist Trapped: When Gnomes Attack

"No, no, no, Mabel, WATCH OUT!" screamed Dipper.

"Let's throw something at him!" I called. I had grabbed a cardboard box and was ready to lunge it at the window and have it knock the zombie Norman over. Anything to stop him.

Dipper watched Norman reach Mabel.

He gasped in terror.

Norman grabbed her shoulders.

Dipper screamed.

I reeled the box back, about to warn him to stand aside from the window, when...

Norman stepped back, revealing the flower garland he had placed around Mabel's neck.

Mabel gasped slightly in response. "Daisies? You scallywag." She smiled.

I tossed the box away and Dipper stepped off the window seat, asking more to himself than to me, "Is my sister really dating a zombie, or am I just going nuts?"

"If it's any consolation, I was about to kill him with a cardboard box," I replied.

"But we're not crazy! Something's up with that guy, and I just wish we knew _what_," he replied.

"It's a dilemma to be sure." We both jumped and almost screamed at the sound and unprecedented appearance of Soos, screwing in a lightbulb into a hanging ceiling light.

"I couldn't help but overhear you talking to yourselves in this empty room." Soos, both as an employee and a person in general, is a bit of an enigma. That's the only reason I can think of as to why he wears a T-shirt with an enormous question mark on it.

"Soos, you've seen Mabel's boyfriend," stated Dipper. "He's gotta be a zombie, right?"

"Hmmm." Soos contemplated the question carefully. Then he asked in all seriousness, "How many brains did you see the guy eat?"

Dipper, discouraged, replied. "Zero."

__I think I see Soos' point, __I thought. __The boyfriend is weird, but that's no reason to get paranoid.__

"Look dude," said Soos. "I believe you." (__OK, I completely __missed__his point,__I thought confused.) "I'm always noticing weird stuff in this town. Like the mailman; pretty sure that dude's a werewolf."

He personally flashed back to seeing said mailman while eating his lunch in the park, walking down his route. The guy was nothing but burly red hair sprouting all over his face and body. Soos gave him a glare and shifted slightly in his bench.

"But you gotta have evidence," Soos continued in the present time. "Otherwise people are gonna think you're a major league cuckoo clock."

"As always Soos, you're right," resigned Dipper.

"My wisdom is both a blessing, and a curse."

Down the hall, an angry Grunkle Stan called, "Soos! The portable toilets are clogged again!"

Soos tightened the baseball cap on his head, and fixed a determined look on his face. "I am needed elsewhere." He backed into the narrow corridor, and left us alone in the empty room.

Dipper grabbed the journal, and closed it's cover. I could already tell what his next mission was now that he had an idea of what the perceived threat could be: to gather evidence. He went to walk out of the attic, and I followed after him to his room. But I wasn't completely on board with Soos' idea.

"I don't know about this, Dipper," I said, voicing my doubts. "I mean, the book seems to indicate that Norman is a zombie, but what if we're just blowing this all out of proportion-"

"Isannah," he replied. "Mabel's in trouble. You've seen that guy. There's something unnatural about him. I'm positive that he's a zombie."

As a Christian, I believed in the supernatural as far as angels, demons, and divine Providence went, and was willing to believe pretty much anything. But zombies... I had just seen that in _way _too many movies to find it truly credible.

"But we're just going by what some book says about zombies. For all we know, this journal could be just a fabricated relic hidden specifically so that it could just so happen to be found around the Mystery Shack, be put on display, and bring in more revenue for your great-uncle. __Nothing__written in those pages could be real."

"You believe in a book that has a lot of weird things to say, too."

"The Bible is at least historically verifiable."

"Besides, there's no harm in testing the theory, is there? If there is any evidence whatsoever that doesn't support the theory that he's a zombie, I'll let it go." He sighed, and sat on the edge of his bed. "I just want Mabel to be safe."

The kid was serious about this. I never met a kid as convicted as he was of his fear for his sister.

"Look, I'm concerned about Mabel too." I sat next him on the bed. "If it means anything to you, I'll help you stalk and research the creepy boyfriend on my off time."

He looked up at me, with a question on his face. "You will?"

"Hey, Mabel's my Summer Sister. As far as I'm concerned, you guys are family. I'm gonna look out for her if it kills me."

I held out a fist. "Let's get some."

He smiled appreciatively and bumped it with his own.

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Later by lamplight, I wrote my concerns in my journal:

"_I didn't tell him, but even though there was little except speculation to go on, I felt that there was something weird about Norman too. Maybe even dangerous. I'm afraid to voice this thought, but I'm worried that if we don't keep an eye on Mabel's boyfriend, she won't just be wearing daisies; she'll be pushing up daisies as well."_

Over the next couple of days, Dipper followed his sister and her boyfriend everywhere they went, recording everything they did, and making certain to keep special attention to Norman's actions and reactions.

Between college work, putting hours in for the Mystery Shack, doing homework, I had a more difficult time keeping up my end of the fist bump. I took the time though to ask Mabel where she and Norman were going for their third date, and was able to track them down to a creek. I was recording them with my phone, and saw Norman panic as he crossed the creek, as though he were drowning. The creek was only ankle deep. Norman wasn't doing it for laughs though. Mabel had to drag him out by the sleeve of his hoodie and the stick lodged in his hair to rescue him.

I had seen enough.

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On the last day that Mabel would be going out with Norman, she was busy brushing her hair and getting ready for their next date. Dipper walked into their bedroom, saying, "Mabel, we've got to talk about Norman," he said. He wasn't putting off the confrontation any longer. It was evident to me that he felt had enough proof to make a case against Norman. Figuring that he knew how to explain things to his sister better than I did, I gave him my evidence, and left the matter up to him.

"Isn't he the best?" she asked. "Check out this giant smooch mark he gave me." On the right of her face, was a large red circle on her cheek. Dipper gasped in horror.

"Ha ha," she laughed. "Gullible. It was just an accident with the leaf blower."

She personally flashed back earlier, when she positioned the leaf blower that belonged to her great-uncle on a trash can. She switched it to suck, and flipped a photo of Norman over the nozzle, with his lips discreetly cut out. "Kissing practice," she said, and was leaning in to kiss the cut out lips, when the blower sucked in the photo, and consequentially, her lips as well. She panicked, and banging the leaf blower around, yelled through her sealed lips "Turn it off! Turn it off!"

"That was fun," she reminisced.

"No, Mabel, listen," interjected Dipper. "I'm trying to tell you that Norman is not what he seems." He removed the journal from inside his body warmer as he spoke.

Mabel gasped. "You think he might be a vampire?" she whispered. "That would be _so awesome_!"

"Guess again sister," replied her brother. "Sha-BAM!" He showed her a page about gnomes.

Mabel yelped, disgusted at the image.

"Oh wait." He muttered "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," as he rapidly flipped to the correct page about the undead. "Shabam."

"A zombie?" She gave him an offended look. "That is not funny, Dipper."

"I'm __not__joking," he exasperated, closing the book and replacing back inside his body warmer. "It all adds up: the bleeding, the limp. He never blinks! Have you noticed that?!"

"Maybe he's blinking when you're blinking," replied his sister.

"Mabel, remember what the book said about Gravity Falls?" He glanced behind him, and whispered, "'Trust no one.'"

"What about me, huh?" she asked him, not accusingly but rather like the thought was a silly notion. "Why can't you trust me?" She popped her favorite star earrings on her ears with a "Beep. Bop."

Dipper was desperate now. "Mabel!" He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "HE'S GONNA EAT YOUR BRAIN!"

Mabel grabbed his hand to remove it from her arm, with a displeased countenance. "Dipper, listen to me." I had never seen her so serious or so angry before, and it almost scared me. "Norman and I are going on a date at five o'clock, and I'm gonna be adorable,"- she poke him in his chest to drive her point- "and he's gonna be dreamy"-she poked him again, shoving him out the door frame despite his protests- "and I'm not gonna let you ruin it with one of your crazy _conspiracies_!" She slammed the door on the last word.

Dipper turned away from the door, sat down and sighed. "What am I gonna do?"

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As five o'clock chimed, the doorbell rang, and Mabel hurriedly pulled on her sweater, ran down the stairs, calling "Coming!"

She answered the door. "Hey, Norman. How do I look?" She was wearing a green skirt with a matching green headband, and a sparkly purple sweater with a cat's face on the front and the words "Meow Wow!"

"Shiny," he shrugged.

"Huh. You always know what to say." And with that, the two of them took hands and walked out into the spooky part of the woods.

Dipper was sitting despondently in the easy chair, holding his camera, watching his sister walk off with what he once thought was a monster.

"Soos is right," said Dipper after Mabel and Norman disappeared. "We don't have any __real__evidence." He was watching some of the scenes he had recorded, one of which where Mabel and Norman were playing hopscotch, with Norman falling flat on his face in his usual clumsy manner.

"I guess I can be kinda paranoid sometimes, and-wait, WHAT?!"

He rewound the scene he was just playing:

Norman and Mabel were enjoying the wild scenery of the woods, with Norman's arm wrapped around her shoulder. But his hand from that arm was detached. He watched in shocked horror as he reached over (apparently, Mabel wasn't a keen observer) and put the disembodied hand back in place, and returned to watching the landscape with Mabel.

Dipper yelped and flipped so hard the chair fell back. He sprang back up. "I WAS RIGHT!" He ran out the front door. "Omigosh! Omigosh! Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Stan!" He headed toward the crowd of tourists gathered by a stage where Stan was speaking. "Grunkle Stan!"

"And here we have A Rock That Looks Like A Face rock," said Stan, showing a rock that looked like a face on a display stand. "_The rock that looks like a face_."

A tourist missing half a pinkie raised his hand. "Does it look like a rock?"

"No, it looks like a face," replied Stan.

"Is it a face?" asked another.

"It's a rock that __looks__like a face," emphasized Stan.

While the tourists continued to puzzle over the difficult concept of a rock that looks like a face but isn't a face, Dipper was running around the back of the crowd, too short to be noticed, and yelling for his great-uncle's attention. "Over here! Grunkle Stan!" He was pleading to be heard.

"For the fifth time," exasperated Stan. "It's-it's not an __actual__face!"

Dipper wasn't getting through to him, and he was running out of time. _Can't someone here help me___?__

Meanwhile, Mabel and Norman were deep in the woods. All alone.

"Finally, we're alone," said Mabel with satisfaction.

"Yes," agreed Norman, darkly. "_Alone._"

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I was refitting a sign that said "Rock That Looks Like A Face" that had fallen over. After reviewing my footage and some of his, Dipper and I were both fairly disappointed that all our spying and recording had been for nothing. I almost wanted Norman to be zombie.

I had watched Mabel waltz out into the woods. After she disappeared from sight, I found myself walking in the same direction. I stopped myself, and tried to quell the growing apprehension I felt in my gut.

_Norman _isn't_ a zombie,_ I reminded myself. _Mabel is safe walking off with him into the woods without adult supervision. Honestly, I don't see why I still feel –_

That was when Dipper came charging toward me. He charged into my waist, and we collapsed to the ground.

"Iz! Iz!" he shouted leaping back to his feet. "I was right!"

I got up and brushed soil and pine needles off my cardigan. "Right about what?"

"Norman! His hand fell off his arm-and-and-he put it back- and-I-I caught it on tape-but-but WE HAVE TO SAVE MABEL!" He grasped my wrist with surprising strength for a twelve-year-old, and yanked me to follow him.

I had no idea what finally convinced him about that, but I decided to take it as the sign that my instincts were right, and to follow through on them.

"Dipper, she's in the woods, but we don't know where she is exactly, and it could take time to find her!" I replied. "We need some sort of transportation."

"Like what? A TAXI?"

Just then, Wendy drove up in the golf cart.

"WENDY!" called Dipper. He ran toward her, and I followed him. "Wendy!" She was exiting the vehicle with the keys to the cart in hand. "Wendy, I need to borrow the golf cart so I can save my sister from a ZOMBIE!" She smirked at him, while we waited for a response.

She dropped the keys in his hands without need of any explanation and winked, saying,"Try not to hit any pedestrians," and walked away. Dipper smiled in a way that was both relieved, and maybe a little crazy.

But before I could make any comment or question he jumped into the front seat, turned the key, and shifted into reverse.

"Hey dude, it's me, Soos" said the owner of the name, who happened to be there. Dipper parked the vehicle, and I climbed into the passenger seat.

"This is for the zombies," he explained, handing me a shovel.

"Thanks," replied Dipper, as I placed it behind our seats in the trunk of the cart.

"And this is in case you see a pinata," said Soos, handing me a bat.

I passed it on to the back, while Dipper said, "Uh... thanks?" He hit the accelerator and sped madly out of the parking lot.

"Better safe than sorry!" called Soos.

But his voice was already fading as we hit break-neck speed to find a love-blinded twin, and a brain-thirsty zombie.

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Alone in a spooky part of the woods, Norman, turned away from Mabel's innocent stare.

"Eh, Mabel," he addressed her. "Now that we've gotten to know each other, there's..." He fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie, let out breathe, before he continued. "There's something I should tell you." A breeze dramatically blew by.

"Oh, Norman," replied Mabel with caring concern in her voice. "You can tell me anything." __Please be a vampire! Please be a vampire!__

_"_Alright, just... just don't freak out, OK? Just-just keep an open mind. Be cool."

He unzipped his hoodie, and pulled it back, let it fall from his shoulders, revealing...

Five tiny men stacked on each other's heads. Two were holding out sticks for arms, and two were acting as feet, while the very top one was Norman's face. Or, whatever used to be Norman.

The top tiny man pulled back the hair that was always in his face. "Is this weird?" he asked. "Is this too weird? You need to sit down?"

Mabel stared, slack-jawed and speechless.

"Oh-er, right, I'll-I'll explain," the top man said. "Sooo, we're gnomes, first off. Get that one out of the way."

Mabel just said, "Uh..." an eye twitching, still not able to comprehend what just happened.

"I'm Jeff," he addressed himself, and gesturing to the rest in turn introduced: "And here we have Carson, Steve, Jason, and... I'm sorry! I always forget your name."

"Shmebulak," answered the one he addressed.

Jeff snapped his fingers in remembrance. "Shmebulak. Yes!"

Mabel sat down on a rock, slapping her forehead in disbelief, while Jeff continued his exposition.

"Anyways, long story short, us gnomes have been looking for a new queen. Right, guys?"

The rest of the gnomes chanted "Queen!" in response.

"Heh, so what do ya say?" He tapped his foot on the left side, and the gnomes bent down like a proposing man on one knee. The right hand held out a shiny diamond ring.

"Will join us in holy matri-gnome-y? Matri-matri-matri-__mon___y_. Blah! I can't talk today!"

Mabel broke it to them. "Look, I'm sorry guys. You're really sweet, but I'm a girl, and you're gnomes, and it's like 'What?'" She paused. "Yikes."

The gnomes were all disheartened. "We understand," replied Jeff. "We'll never forget you, Mabel."

She smiled at the thought.

"Because we're gonna kidnap you."

"Huh?"

The gnomes attacked, and Mabel screamed.

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	4. Ch3: Tourist Trapped: Gnomes Weakness

Chapter 3: Tourist Trapped: Gnomes' Weakness

While we were speeding through the forest in the path that Mabel took, I was asking Dipper a very monumental question: "Shouldn't __I __be driving?

"Does it really matter?"

"In case a state trooper pulls us over, I want us to at least have someone with a license behind the wheel with a good explanation."

"What would we tell him? 'Sorry for speeding, officer. We're just in a big hurry because a twelve-year-old girl is about to be eaten by her ZOMBIE BOYFRIEND!'"

"You make it seem like the chance of getting pulled over is as ridiculous as the reason we're out here to begin with."

"But who's gonna stop us in the middle of th-"

We heard a scream.

"Don't worry Mabel!" Dipper shifted into high gear, and we somehow seemed to go faster than before (which I didn't think was possible.) "We'll save you from that zombie!" We barreled in the direction of "HELP!" We heard her voice from the bottom of cliff, around a bend in the path.

"Hold on!" I called. We drove over the crest of a hill, but it turned into a steep pit, and we found ourselves driving into a tunnel, with glowing ethereal pools of water, mossy boulders, and spotted mushrooms. The air glowed with what seemed to be fireflies. Dipper drove with steadfast determination, and we bumped our way through the tunnel into a clearing, where Mabel was struggling against a horde of... bearded doll-sized men in overalls with red caps?

"The more you struggle, the more awkward this is gonna be for everybody," said one of the tiny men. "Just- ho-oh-OK, just get her arm there, Steve."

One of the red caps was chewing on Mabel's arm, and she was trying to shake him off. "Let go of me!" She punched at him off, and he flew away in an arch of sparkles. She kicked another, and he flew the in same manner, and bounced a couple of times before uncomfortably landing. He held stomach, nauseated, and barfed a rainbow.

By now Dipper, holding the shovel, and I, bearing the bat, had disembarked from the golf cart, both with the same question: "What the __heck __is going on here?"

One of the men ran by and hissed at us, which surprised us. He kept running to join the others in the fray.

"Isannah! Dipper!" called Mabel. "Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes, and they're total jerks!" She punched at one, and in retaliation, he pulled her hair. "Hair! Hair! Hair!" she cried in pain.

"Gnomes?" Dipper pondered, pulling out the journal. "Huh, we were __way __off."

"__That __would explain the fear of drowning in shallow water," I reflected. Dipper flipped through the journal to the pages about gnomes. "'Gnomes: little men of the Gravity Falls Forest. Weaknesses: unknown.'"

"Uh, Dipper?" I pointed at Mabel, who was now subdued and tied to the ground, like a Gulliver in a land of Lilliputians. "Aw, come on!" she yelled in anger.

"HEY HEY!" he yelled at the gnome in charge. "Let go of my sister!"

The gnome turned. "Oh, heh heh, hey there! Um, you know, this is all really just a... big misunderstanding! You see, your sister's not in danger. She's just marrying all one thousand of us and becoming our gnome queen for all eternity." He turned to Mabel. "Isn't that right, honey?"

"You guys are _buttfaces_!" she yelled. One of the gnomes gagged her mouth to prevent her from yelling any more obscenities.

Dipper lifted the shovel. "Give her back __right now__, or else..."

"... You're gonna wish you knew a good doctor," I finished, brandishing the bat.

"You think you can stop us, humans?" asked the gnome. "You have no idea what we're capable of. The gnomes are a powerful race!" Dipper just glanced at me like "Is this guy for real?"

"Do not trifle with the-" Dipper then just scooped him up with the shovel, and threw him away like dirt. He ran to Mabel, and used the shovel to slice the binds that held her down. The gnomes were closing in to recapture her, but she kicked them aside before they could touch her. Taking Dipper's hand, they hurried to the golf cart. I turned around, just in time to bat a couple away as they flew for Mabel, and jumped in the cart behind them.

"They're getting away with our queen!" yelled the chief gnome. "No, no, NO!"

"Seat belt," Dipper reminded his sister, and he shifter the cart into reverse, and sped away, leaving the gnomes in the dust.

"You messed with the wrong creatures, humans," growled the chief gnome darkly. "Gnomes of the Forest, ASSEMBLE!"

From every crack and crevice of the tunnel, gnomes appeared. They began to stand each others shoulders, stacking up and interlocking their arms, and building themselves into a towering, opposing monster of unimaginable horror.

Meanwhile, Dipper was speeding the golf cart down the path. Mabel and I were kept glancing behind us, with the same obvious fear.

"Hurry before they come after us," pleaded Mabel.

"I wouldn't worry about it," assured her brother. "You see their little legs? The suckers are tiny."

Just as he said that, we heard and felt a large __THUMP __bounce the cart. Dipper stopped. We heard another, this time closer. And another.__THUMP. __

__THUMP. __

__THUMP. __

__THUMP.__

"Can I worry now?" I squeaked fearfully.

Dipper and Mabel turned around and saw what I was seeing. "Dang," said Mabel.

The tiny suckers had built themselves into one enormous, red, gnome monster.

"Alright, teamwork guys," called the lead gnome from the top of the monster's hat. "Like we practiced." Somehow, monster opened it's red bearded maw and roared. It lifted a fist with the intent of crushing us.

"Move," warned Mabel.

"_Now,_" I added.

Dipper stepped on the gas, and sped us away. I watched as the fist half-disintegrated upon contact with the empty ground, and the scattered gnomes crawl back on and reassemble themselves. The monster got up and charged after us. "Come back with our queen!"

The cart bumped as it sped along the worn path. "It's getting closer!" cried Mabel.

As the monster ran after us, it shot four gnomes from it's hand, sending them flying like bullets towards us. Seeing the incoming threat, I grabbed hold of the bat, and swatted the incoming gnome missiles away. One of the gnomes gripped himself to the bat, and hissed at me. I continued slapping the bat with the live lawn ornament against the back of the golf cart until the little monster released his grip.

One landed on the roof, and began to tear into it like a ravenous wolf. He then lifted itself down by Mabel's side of the cart, and she promptly punched him off. Another uglier one landed behind Dipper ready to bite his head, but Dipper grabbed him slammed him into the steering wheel of the cart, setting off the horn."Aw, Shmebulak," the gnome groaned. Dipper threw him into the horn again, and he bounced off and flew away behind the cart. Another leaped unto the front of the cart, and squealing some shrill demonic noise, attacked Dipper's face.

"I'll save you, Dipper," proclaimed his sister. She punched at the gnome until he flew off his face, taking his hat in his mouth with him.

"Thanks, Mabel," said a bruised and badly beaten Dipper.

"Don't mention it," she replied.

The monster then picked up a pine tree and threw it. We stared as it flew over the cart and onto the path ahead, blocking further access.

"Look out!" Mabel cried. Dipper yelped, and applied the brakes, The three of us screamed as Dipper veered all over the road, trying to avoid a collision with the felled tree. He succeeded by finding a gap between the tree and the dirt road, but he ended up turning too sharply and the cart started to spin in circles, and with the combination of speed and weight displacement by me in the back, the cart flipped on its side and ceased to a halt beside the vacant Mystery Shack.

We crawled out, bruised and moaning. "Next time, __I'm __driving," I moaned.

The monster walked to us, standing over us in triumph. "Stay back, man!" yelled Dipper at the gnomes. He threw the shovel, but the gnomes crushed it with a roar and a single punch to the ground. I looked at the bat in my hand, and in desperation, rushed at the monster. I slapped it against one the monster's feet, which sounded with pained shrieks, but the gnome monster grabbed me by the belt of my pants with one hand, picked up the bat with the other, and started spanking me with it.

"Ouch! Ouch! Do I – Ouch! – look – Ouch! – like a – Ouch! – pinata? Ouch!"

Dipper and Mabel held each other and screamed. "Uhh, where's Grunkle Stan?" asked Dipper.

Meanwhile, inside the Mystery Shack, Stan was showing a family of tourists one of his many attractions. "Behold, the World's Most Distracting Object." It was a spinning hypnotist wheel.

"Oooo," said the awed tourists, as Stan pulled a string that spun the wheel.

"Just try to look away," he challenged. "You can't!" The tourists gave him an blank stare. And as Stan stared into the wheel, he remarked, "I can't even remember what I was talking about."

Back outside, the towering red beast grew bored abusing me, and threw the bat away into the forest. But it held me by my wrists and my ankles, straight as a pole, and lifted it's knee.

"It's the end of the line, kids," called the chief gnome. "Mabel, marry us before we do something crazy."

"They don't count trying to force a child into marriage and almost killing us as _CRAZY_?!" I exasperated. The gnome monster pulled me taunter, and I realized the horrid beast's intentions. It was going to snap me in half like a stick! I started muttering a slur of prayers to heaven.

"There's got to be a way out of this," said Dipper.

As he was pulling out the journal, Mabel stepped forward and said with determination, "I gotta do it."

"What?! Mabel," Dipper whispered. "Don't do this, are you crazy?"

"Trust me," she whispered back.

"What?"

"Dipper, just this once, __trust me__."

Dipper looked up at the monster, and back at his sister, then stepped back and out of the way.

"All right, Jeff," called Mabel up to the gnome. "I'll marry you."

The monster stomped happily, and shuffled me into just one of it's hands.

"Hot dog!" said Jeff. He climbed his way down the towering gnome beast. "Help me down there, Jason. Thanks Andy- alright-left foot-there we go-watch those fingers, Mike."

He appeared at the foot (literally) of the monster and ran over to Mabel, with a "heh heh heh," and bestowed to her the wedding ring.

"Eh, eh?" he implored her. She accepted the ring, and gazed at it almost with an appreciative air.

"Bud-a-bing, bud-a-bam! Now let's get you back into the forest, honey." He was ready to hurry off.

"You may now kiss the bride," she said.

None of us expected this. But Jeff said, "Well, eh, don't mind if I do." He pursed his lips to kiss her, and I thought I would gag.

Mabel pursed her own lips in preparation, but furtively switched on the leaf blower behind her to "suck," and pointed it at Jeff.

Jeff realized the danger, and tried to back away. "Hey-hey, wait a minute! Eh-"

Dipper and I stared in disbelief of Mabel's resourcefulness, and the gnomes in the monster gasped at the turn of events.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa-what's going on?" Jeff exclaimed, trying to escape the pull of the leaf blower. He struggled and clung to the grass, but was sucked screaming into the nozzle.

"That's for lying to me," said Mabel. She then shifter the leaf blower to more power.

"That's for breaking my heart." Jeff was about to be sucked completely inside the nozzle. "Ow! My face!" he cried.

"And this is for messing with my family," she finished looking at her brother. She aimed the nozzle at the gnome monster. The monster got a worried look, and I smiled.

"Wanna do the honors?" she asked Dipper.

"On three," Dipper commanded. "One, two, three!" Dipper shifted the leaf blower from suck to blow, and Jeff shot out of the nozzle like a cannonball and shot through the monster of the gnome army, destroying it.

As Jeff flew away, he yelled, "I'llllll get you for thissssss!"

The sky rained gnomes, and I fell none too painfully with them. Rubbing my backside, I ran by the side of the Shack, searching for a well deserving punishment befitting these monsters.

"Who's giving orders?" asked one of the gnomes. "I need orders."

"Here's one!" I yelled, spraying the gnomes with ice-cold water from a hose. "Go home and barf rainbows, you __disgustingly __cute lawn ornaments!" I gave some others a good soaking.

"My arms are tired," complained another gnome. Mabel turned the leaf blower on them, blowing them away from the Mystery Shack.

"Anyone __else __want some?" asked Dipper. But they fled away, hopping into the trees like wet rabbits. One of them though got tangled in a plastic soda pop can holder, and was stuck until Gompers the goat grabbed one of the plastic rings in his teeth, and leaped away with the gnome screaming.

With leaves in our hair, we walked toward the front steps of the gift shop.

"Hey Dipper," called Mabel. "I, um, I'm sorry for ignoring your advice. You really were just looking out for me."

"Oh, don't be like that," replied her brother. "You saved our butts back there."

"Not mine," I said, sheepishly adjusting my belt, "but you at least had my back."

Mabel sighed despondently. "I guess I'm just sad that my first boyfriend turned out to be a bunch of gnomes."

Dipper smiled though. "Look on the bright side. Maybe the next one will be a vampire."

She laughed. "You're just saying that." She punched his arm.

"Awkward sibling hug?"

"Awkward sibling hug."

They hugged, and said, "Pat. Pat."

I got them in a bear hug, and tried to left the two of them up in my arms, but fell back onto the steps. Despite the renewed butt pain, the three of us laughed.

After recovering from our laughter, we walked through the gift shop door, tired but triumphant. Dipper kicked the door closed.

"Yeesh, you three get hit by a bus or something?" asked their great-uncle behind the register, counting today's profit. He laughed.

__We crashed a golf cart, does that count? __I thought.

We headed to the "Employees Only" doorway to get to the house side of the Shack for bed without a word. We were too worn out and a little bummed out for Mabel to say anything in return, although I was thinking about confronting Stan on his negligence of his own family tomorrow. I mean I was "watching" the twins, but they weren't solely my responsibility; they were his. And as such I thought he should care more about their safety and security.

"Eh, hey!" Stan called. We turned to him in response. "Eh- would-wouldn't you know it,um, I accidentally overstocked some inventory, so uh, how's about each of you take an item from the gift shop, on the house, you know?"

"Really?" asked Mabel eagerly.

"What's the catch?" asked Dipper. Same thing I was thinking.

"The catch is do it before I change my mind," replied Stan. "Now take something." He tapped the cash register and deposited his earnings, and the three of us took Stan up on his offer and check out the inventory to see what tickled our fancy.

I decided that Stan wasn't half as bad as I perceived. But he certainly wasn't good. Even so, I knew that he was at least attempting to be a little kind towards his family and tenant. I decided that I would let the problem slide.

Mabel went from one box and one shelf to another, searching with great interest. Dipper walked over to a shelf that held baseball caps with a pine tree emblem on the front, and tried one on. He looked in a nearby mirror. "Hm. That oughta do the trick."

I searched inside a tiny box, and found a few pens. I pulled one out, and scribbled a line on the back of my hand to test the color. I found that the color changed from night sky blue, to a dawn green, and again into a sunny yellow depending on the lighting. "Whoa," I commented. "Can't wait to write some stories with this."

Mabel looked inside another box."And I will have a..." she held out the desired object in her hand, did a little twirl, and said, "grappling hook!"

The three of us just gave each other side glances. "Yes," agreed Mabel.

"You wouldn't you rather have like, a doll or something?" asked Stan.

In response, Mabel shot the grappling hook to a rafter in the ceiling, and swung on the cable into a tall box labeled "Fragile." Glass broke on impact.

"Grappling hook!" cried Mabel as she swung from the ceiling.

"Fair enough," replied Stan.

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That night, cramped back into my tiny room, I lay sprawled across my bed, writing in my journal.

_"Dear God, my faith was stretched in a way I never expected today. I mean, I do believe in things like the supernatural and other things that are considered unbelievable, but I never thought that the unexplainable would extended to places like Gravity Falls. I promised I wouldn't mention it in writing, but let's just say that this town has some weird things and odd characters that Dipper, Mabel, and I intend to research about and figure out the secrets that this town holds. Oh, and Mabel's boyfriend was a total fraud. And he did more than just hurt her heart. Let's leave it at that._

_"I miss writing short stories like I used to at home, and now that I'm armed with a new pen and an old notebook, I'm prepared for any bout of inspiration that should come my way._

_"Before I go to bed, I feel like I should mention something else. Throughout the past few days that I lived here, I've asked myself again and again "Why am I here?" Nothing here at first seemed to make the trip and summer lease worth it, but I found that I might have some true purpose here: to be an older sister. It's all I've ever been at home, and now I'm applying those same skills and assets to my new assignment, the Pines Twins. I just hope that I'm up for the job. Because after today's challenge, I see that living in Gravity Falls is going to be more dangerous than it appeared. I am never leaving those kids out of my sight._

_"I pray God that you would protect me, Dipper, Mabel,"_\- I pondered my thought before writing it- _"and yes, even that you would protect Stan. I can't say that he's my most favorite boss or person in the world, but considering how clueless he is about the dangers his grand-nephew and grand-niece had faced today, I'm almost afraid something might get him by surprise. Keep everyone here in the palm of your hand, and never let us go. Amen."_

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As Mabel jumped on her bed, Dipper wrote in the journal: "This journal told me there was no one in Gravity Falls I could trust. But when you battle a hundred gnomes side by side with someone, you realize that they've probably always got your back."

Mabel used her grappling hook to nab a stuffed tiger.

"Hey Mabel," called her brother. "Could you get the light?"

She aimed her grappling hook at the oil lamp burning by Dipper's bedside. "I'm on it," she replied. She shot the grappling hook at the lamp and it shot through the window breaking the pane.

"It worked!" she cried. The twin siblings laughed. "Grappling hook," said Mabel.

Dipper's entry ended with: "Our uncle told us there was nothing strange about this town. But who knows what other secrets are waiting to be unlocked."

Right below their broken bedroom window, their great-uncle carried an oil lantern and walked into the gift shop. He went up to the snack machine, and pressed in a code that wasn't listed for any of the snacks inside the machine. As he glanced over his shoulder, the whole machine swung back on unseen hinges, revealing a secret staircase behind it. He walked inside, but took another cautious look around to be sure he wasn't seen, and closed the door.

The light that had been perpetually lit inside the machine went out.

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	5. Ch4: LOTG: Old Man McGucket

Chapter 5: Legend of the Gobblewonker: Old Man McGucket

It was about eight in the morning, and Saturday was in the air. I had gotten up an hour earlier than I usually enjoyed so I could make pancakes for the twins. Mabel and Dipper were sitting at the kitchen table, breakfast mostly finished, entertaining themselves with one of those games that siblings will create between each other to pass time. I sat on my end of the table to watch.

"Are you ready for the ultimate challenge?" asked Mabel, holding a bottle of Sir Syrup maple syrup.

"I'm always ready," replied her brother, holding a bottle of Mountie Man maple syrup.

"Then you know what this means."

"Syrup race!" they said in exclamation. They opened the caps of syrup, held the bottles high over their mouths, and cheered for their syrup to drip faster.

"Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!" I cheered for both of them. I felt no bias towards one twin over the other.

"Go Sir Syrup!" cheered Mabel. "Go, go, go!

"Go Mountie Man!" cheered Dipper. "Go, go, go!

"Almost." Then Mabel tapped the bottom of her bottle, and the awaited drop of syrup fell on her tongue.

"Yes!" she said triumphant, then proceed to choke on the inhaled maple sap by product. "I won!"

_ Reminds me of _my _siblings,_ I reminisced. _Good times._

Dipper, a little annoyed that she won, turned to the news magazine laying on the table. While his sister continued to sputter and cough, he found an article that interested him.

"No way!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Hey guys, check this out." He showed the page he was reading to us.

"Human-sized hamster ball?" Mabel gasped. "I'm human-sized!"

"No no, Mabel, this." Her brother pointed to a monster photo in a contest ad. "We see weirder stuff than that everyday. We didn't get any photos of those gnomes, did we?"

"Nope, just memories," confirmed Mabel.

"And nightmares," I shuddered.

"And this beard hair." She held up said hair.

"Why did you save that?" asked Dipper, mildly disgusted.

She shrugged.

"Didn't you have a scrapbook you were going to keep our memories in?" I asked her. "Maybe you could put it there as a reminder of our harrowing escape from those magical lawn ornaments."

Before she could answer, we heard Grunkle Stan walk into the room wearing only his underwear as evidence of just getting out of bed._(Does he wear that fez to bed too? _I wondered_.)_

"Good mornin', knuckleheads. Any of you know what day it is?"

"Um, Happy Anniversary?" guessed Dipper.

"Saturday?" I guessed. _Compliment your grand-nephew, -niece, and tenant day?_ "Knucklehead" was the closest thing from either a compliment or a nickname that I heard from Stan.

"Mazel tov!" exclaimed Mabel. I guess their family was Jewish.

Stan whacked the newspaper he was holding into Dipper's head."It's Family Fun Day, genius." _So much for compliments,_ I thought.

He threw the paper on the table and reached into the fridge for the milk carton while he spoke. "We're cuttin' off work and having one of those, you know-" he paused to sniff the milk- "bonding type deals."

"Grunkle Stan?" asked Dipper. "Is this gonna be anything like our last family bonding day?"

– He and his sister flash-backed to the last family bonding day, when they were learning how to make counterfeit currency from Stan. Stan was inspecting a bill, while Dipper and Mabel sedulously painted frauds.

Stan tossed away the bill to inspect Dipper's work."You call that Ben Franklin? He looks like a woman."

Just then, sirens blared inside the room, warning them of imminent arrest. "Uh oh," said Stan. –

Mabel shuddered from the memory. "Oh. The county jail was so cold."

"I thank God I was stuck in the schoolhouse with a jammed door that day," I said in remembrance.

"All right, maybe I haven't been the best summer caretaker," Stan finally admitted. "But I swear, today we're gonna have some_ real_ family fun. Now, who wants to put on some blindfolds and get into my car?"

"Yay!" cheered the twins.

"Wait, _what_?" I asked.

_ -cue theme song- _

A deer leaped out of the road as Stan's car speed down. The twins and I were blindfolded in the backseat. As Stan drove, he reached for something in the front seat, and caused the car to swerve sharply. The twins and I swung in the opposite direction. "Whoa, whoa!" yelped Dipper.

The only reason why I was considered family by Stan for the day was because he knew that the twins would want me included on the experience. Besides, both me and Stan knew that I was the only adult between the two of us who could do CPR or else have the common sense to bring sunscreen to wherever we were going. I just kept praying that we weren't going to get involved in something illegal.

"Blindfolds never lead to anything good," muttered Dipper, hugging his knees.

"Wow," remarked Mabel, who sat between us. "I feel like all my other senses are heightened. I can see with my fingers," she whispered mystically. She pressed her hands into my face and Dipper's, causing us to laugh. Then a large bump in the road jolted us off the backseat. Good thing we had our seat belts on.

"Stan, are _you_ wearing a blindfold?" I asked.

"Heh heh, nah, but with these cataracts I might as well be," he replied. "What is that, a woodpecker?"

It was a sign pointing in the direction of an upcoming curve, which of course Stan crashed along with the guard rail next to it, and kept driving off the road into the woods, with the twins and I yelping in the back.

We stopped and got out, still wearing our blindfolds. There were branches sticking out of the grill of Stan's car, but we came out of the woods for the most part undamaged.

"Okay, okay, open 'em up," said Stan somewhere in front of us. With growing trepidation, we pulled off the blindfolds, and saw we were taken too...

"Ta-da!" said Stan.

Attired in fishing garb, he was standing in the entrance to Gravity Falls lake, a fishing rod in hand and a tackle box under his boot. He was under a sign that said 'Fishing Season Opening Day.'

"It's fishin' season."

"Fishing?" asked Mabel.

"What are you playing at, old man?" asked Dipper accusingly.

"You're gonna love it," replied Stan. "The whole town's out here." He gestured across the lake.

Sure enough, despite his cataracts, he was somewhat right. There was Lazy Susan, the waitress of Greasy's diner, sitting in a boat and holding out a pan. "Here, fishy fishies!" She called. "Get into the pan!"

There was also a man who caught a salmon almost as long as he was, posing with it as local news reporter Toby Determined was taking a picture of him. "Say cheese!" he said, but the flash surprised the man so much that he fell backward of the dock and into the lake.

Hairy Manly Dan and his boys were all together in a boat, rods ready.

"Uh, is this good?" asked one of his sons, holding out his baited line.

"NO!" Manly Dan replied, grabbing the rod and snapping it in two. "I'LL SHOW YOU HOW A _REAL_ MAN FISHES!"

He leaned over the boat, poised to catch, and reached into the water and grabbed a fish. He laughed in triumph. He threw the poor fish in the boat, and started to pulverize it wrestler style. While he punched at it, his sons cheered for him.

"Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad!"

Even baby-faced Tyler in a nearby boat said, "Git 'im. Git 'im."

"That's some quality family bondin'," remarked Stan.

"Grunkle Stan, why do you want to bond with us all of sudden?" asked Dipper. He was sure his scam artist of a great-uncle wasn't doing this out of the goodness of his heart.

But Stan, taking his question to mean that he didn't like the idea of fishing, replied, "Come on, this is gonna be GREAT! I've never had fishin' buddies before." The three of us glanced at each other uneasily. "The guys from the Lodge won't go with me. They don't 'like' or 'trust' me."

"Speaking of which, is this entirely _safe_?" I questioned.

"Of course it is," replied Stan, a little undignified. "The bait is non-toxic, and the lake is only forty percent polluted. Those fish will taste heavenly."

I deadpanned.

"I think he actually wants to fish with us," decided Mabel, but she didn't sound like she enjoyed the idea.

"Hey, I know what'll cheer you sad sacks up,"said Stan. He pulled out two fishing hats, one with Dipper's name and the other with Mabel's name on the front.

"Pow!" He placed the hats on the kids heads. "Pines family fishing hats!" The twins took their hats off to read the name labels.

"Eh-that- that's hand stichin', you know."

Dipper's hat said "Dippy," while Mabel's hat had the "L" peeling off. He didn't offer me a hat. I didn't mind.

"It's just gonna be you, me, the college kid, and those goofy hats on a boat for ten hours," continued Stan, with an oblivious sort of happiness.

"Ten hours?" asked Dipper incredulously.

"In the burning sun?" I asked incredulously. I only brought _one_ bottle of sunscreen.

Their great-uncle winked. "I brought the joooke boook."

He held up a book with the title "1001 Yuk 'Em Ups" with a cartoon old man on the front with the caption "Uncle Approved!"

"No. NOO!" shuddered Dipper in wide-eyed horror.

"There has to be a way out of this," whispered his sister. She was definitely not looking like her perpetual happy self.

I prayed that there was.

It didn't take long for my prayers to be answered.

"I SEEN IT!" screamed an old voice. "I seen it again!" A barefooted old man with a bandaged arm, overalls, and cowboy hat pushed his way across the dock to get to the lake's shore. On his way over, he ran through a line of fishing rods, turned over a bench with buckets of fish, and even knocked a sandwich out of an innocent bystander's hands.

"Oh, no," I groaned. "Please tell me that's not Old Man McGucket."

I had heard rumors about that loon from class, and there were sadly true.

He ran up to one of the fishermen, grabbed him by the shoulders and yelled hysterically, "The Gravity Falls Gobblewonker! Come quick before it scrab-doodles away!"

He then commenced hopping around in a demented fashion.

"Aw," said Mabel. "He's doing a happy jig."

"NOOO!" Crazy McGucket grabbed her arm. "It's a jig of grave DAAANGERRR!"

This man was frightening me, and I would've said something, but someone came to our rescue.

"Hey, HEY!" called a park ranger coming outside the nearby park center to stop the domestic disturbance. The old man leaped straight away when he saw the ranger armed with a spray bottle of water.

"Now what did I tell you about scaring my customers ?" he scolded, spraying the man with the bottle. "This is your last warning, _Dad_!"

"But I got proof this time, by gobbity" replied his drenched father.

Mabel and Dipper glanced at each other, intrigued, while I glanced at them apprehensively.

The old man walked to the edge of the dock, with us and everyone who watched him in tow.

"Behold!" McGucket hollered, pointing at a boat that was broken in half down the middle and floating listlessly near the dock. The cops had pulled up in a patrol boat nearby.

"It's the Gobble-de-Wonker done did it! It had a long neck like a gee-raffe, and wrinkly skin like..." he glanced over at Stan and pointed to him. "Like this gentleman right here."

"Huh?" asked Stan, who had been busy cleaning wax out of his ear.

"It chawed my boat up to smitheroons," continued the eccentric old man. "And ship-shammed over to Scuttlebutt Island." He pointed over to the remote misted -over island in the middle of the lake. "You gotta BELIEVE ME!" He shook his son.

"Attention all units,"called Sheriff Blubs in the boat. "We got ourselves a crazy old man."

Everyone on the dock laughed, except for me, Dipper, and Mabel – who felt maybe a bit sympathetic – and Stan, who seemed just plain confused about what was going on. The ranger shook his head with an attitude like "He'll never change."

"Ahhh, donkey spittle!" the old man yelled in frustration. He walked dejectedly off the dock, muttering things under his breath about the nonbelievers. Everyone exited off the dock except us, laughing as they left.

"Well, that happened," remarked Stan. "Now let's untie this boat and get out on that lake." He climbed inside said motorboat tied unto the dock. The name "STANOWAR" was painted on the port side of the stern.

"Guys," asked Dipper excitedly. "Did you hear what that old dude said?"

"'Ahhh, donkey spittle,'" Mabel imitated.

"The _other_ thing, about the monster." He pulled out the news magazine he had read this morning form his body warmer. "If we can snag a photo of it, we can split the prize _thirty-thirty_... _thirty, _I think."

She gasped slightly. "That's _three_ thirties!"

"Imagine what you could do with _Three. Hundred. Dollars_!"

– So Mabel did. She imagined that that amount of money could buy her a human-sized hamster ball. In her fantasy, she towered over a hamster inside a ball. "Not so high and mighty anymore," she gloated. The hamster hung his head in sadness. Mabel laughed, rolling the ball around the Mystery Shack, breaking through one of the walls and going outside.

Then in her fantasy, she saw her dream boys, Xyler and Craz, driving a red convertible down to an intersection. They paused at as the light turned red.

"Hey boys," called Mabel, poised cooly by a trash can inside her hamster ball.

"You can look, but you can't touch."

The light at the intersection turned green.

"Squeak! Squeak!" Mabel said, racing down the street.

The dream boys stared slack-jawed, their sunglasses slipping off their faces. "Awesome!" they said. –

Mabel was getting starry-eyed, so her brother tried to regain her attention. "Mabel? _Mabel._"

"Dipper," replied Mabel, who finally returned to us. "I am one _million_ percent on board with this."

"How 'bout you, Isannah?" he asked me. "You in?"

Those starry eyes were so full of hope of involvement … but how could be sure it was safe. Even if the monster did exist, who knew what else could be lurking out there. Rabid gnomes? Although, it did beat listening to terrible jokes for ten hours and gutting fish.

"Maybe," I replied uncertainly. "But we have to find a safe means of passage there."

It was all the answer that Dipper needed.

"Grunkle Staaaan!" Dipper said. "Change of plans! We're taking _that _boat to Scuttlebutt Island, and we're gonna find that Gobblewonker."

"Monster hunt! Monster hunt!" the twins chanted.

"Monster hunt!" the old man chanted with us. He came out to where we were on the dock. "Monster, eh..." No one repeated the chant. "I'll go."

"You know," I said. "I'm beginning to wonder if the real monster isn't in front of us."

Just then, we heard a boat horn calling our attention, and a large boat loomed to other side of the dock, with the name "S.S. Cool Dude" painted on the port side of the stern. Soos was at the helm. "You dudes say something about a monster hunt?" he asked. Mabel and Dipper smiled in recognition.

"Soos!" called Mabel happily.

"What's up, Hambone?" Soos put out a fist, and Mabel bumped it, and they made fake explosion noises on impact. That was something I admired about Soos. Sure, at times he was clumsy or didn't have common sense. But he never took Mabel and Dipper's presence to be annoying, but genuinely enjoyed and even invited them to do things with him.

"Dude, you could totally use my boat for your hunt," said Soos. "It's got a steering wheel, chairs, normal boat stuff." He patted the metallic side confidently.

"Alright, alright," Stan addressed us. "Let's think this through. You kids could go waste your time on some epic monster finding adventure, _or_ you could spend the day learning how to tie knots and skewer worms with your Great-uncle Stan!"

The twins looked indecisively between Soos and Stan. Soos was in his high grade boat doing "the robot", whereas Stan was sitting in an old leaky wooden motorboat checking the scent of his armpit. The twins looked out to the mist-shrouded island of Scuttlebutt Island that promised intrigue and adventure, and that made their decision.

_Wait,_ I thought. _So the twins are thinking about going out in a boat, in the middle of the lake, far from help, to search for a dangerous boat-eating monster... with _Soos_!?_ I wasn't about to let these kids put themselves in danger without at least _one_ responsible adult overseeing things. And this boat looked miles safer than the "Stanowar."

"So, what do ya say?" asked Stan, confident that his offer would be taken unanimously. All he heard in return was the boat horn of Soos' boat honking and the sounds of cheers as his grand-nephew, grand-niece, and tenant left for Scuttlebutt Island. "We made the right choice!" cheered Mabel.

Stan watched in disbelief as they disappeared into the fog, then he frowned. "Ingrates! Aw, who needs 'em? I got a whole box of creepy fishin' lures to keep me company." The dead fish with hooks speared through them had flies buzzing over their bodies, and their unblinking eyes stared at Stan. "Uhhuh!" Stan closed the lid on the tackle box.

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Dipper stared confidently into the wind as he stood on the bowsprit on the bow of the boat. "Hoist the anchor!" He commanded. Soos pulled up a chain with the anchor, which turned out to be a cinder block.

"Raise the flag!" commanded Dipper. Mabel raised a towel with a sun wearing sunglasses on it in her hands. "We're gonna find that Gobblewonker!" she said to her brother confidently.

"We're gonna win that photo contest!" replied Dipper.

"Do any of you dudes have sunscreen?" asked Soos.

_How did I forget it?_ "We're gonna... go get sunscreen!" I said.

"YAY!" We cheered, as Soos steered the boat back in the direction of the shore. As the boat headed out of deeper water, a mysterious creature lurked beneath the surface.

SRRU VWDQ


	6. Ch5: LOTG: The Beaver Fakeout

Chapter 6: Legend of The Gobblewonker: The Beaver Fakeout

Dipper paced the deck of the boat, while we stood aside, waiting to hear what he was going to tell us. It seemed crucial.

"All right," said Dipper. "If we want to win this contest, we gotta do it right. Think: what's the number one problem with most monster hunts?"

I could think of more than just _one_ problem with most hunts. "When it's on public television and the government hasn't intervened to prevent the hunt from gathering evidence, you know it's faked?"

Soos was the next to speak up. "If you're a side character, you die within the first five minutes of the movie. Dude! Am _I_ a side character? Do you ever think about stuff like that?"

"No no no," replied Dipper. "Camera trouble! Say Bigfoot shows up. Soos, be Bigfoot?"

Soos struck the famous Bigfoot pose.

Dipper pretended to be a witness. "There he is; Bigfoot. Uh oh. No camera." He pulled out a disposable camera from inside his life jacket. "Oh wait. Here's one." He pretended to try to make a shot. "Aw, no film. You see- you see what I'm doing here?" He said, returning the camera to his life jacket.

We all affirmed that we did. "Dude's got a point," remarked Soos.

"That's why I bought. Twenty. Disposable. Cameras," said Dipper. "Two on my ankle, three in my jacket, three for each of you, five extras in this bag, and one..." He lifted his hat off his head. "Under my hat. There's no way we're gonna miss this. OK everybody, let's test our cameras out."

Soos tried taking a photo with one of his cameras, but the flash was on and the camera was aimed at his face, and it blinded him.

"AH! Dude!" he screamed, throwing the camera out of his hands and into the lake.

"You see?" asked Dipper confidently. "This is exactly why you need backup cameras. We still have nineteen."

Just then, a seagull swooped in at Mabel's head. "AH! Bird!" She threw one of her cameras at it, but she missed and it fell in the water.

"Eighteen," said Dipper. "OK guys, I repeat: _don't _lose your cameras."

"Wait, lose the cameras?" asked Soos.

"DON'T!"

"Dude, I just threw two away."

"And one of those was mine," I added.

"Sixteen! All right, we _still _have sixteen camera-" He threw his fist down on top of a cooler, and crushed a camera laying on it. "Fifteen. We have fifteen cameras."

"So what's the plan?" asked Mabel. "Throw more cameras overboard or what?"

"NO!" screamed her brother. "No," he said more calmly. "OK, you'll be lookout, Soos can work the steering wheel, Isannah will throw the bait, and I'll be captain."

"What?" replied Mabel. "Why do you get to be captain? What about Mabel, huh?" She chanted, "Mabel! Mabel! Mabel!" until her brother said, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"What about co-captain?"

"There's no such thing as co-captain."

"Uh, whoops," she said as she tossed a camera behind her, overboard into the lake.

"OK, fine! You can be co-captain."

"Nicely played, Mabel," I smirked. I had to admire her unprecedented cunning at times.

"Can I be associate co-captain?" asked Soos.

"As co-captain, I authorize that request," said Mabel.

"What does that make me?" I asked.

"I authorize you as assistant associate co-captain to Soos," said Mabel.

"Well, as first co-captain," said Dipper. "Our number one order of business is to lure the monster out with this." He gestured to a barrel labeled fish food. Soos and stood by it, but he was looking at it peculiarly.

"Permission to taste some?" asked Soos.

"Granted," replied Dipper, with a raised eyebrow.

"Permission co-granted," replied Mabel.

"Permission associate co-granted," replied Soos.

"Permission assisted associate co-granted," I shrugged.

Soos reached a hand into the barrel and took a huge fish flake.

He licked it.

And coughed, frantically tried to wipe the taste out of his mouth. The three of us couldn't stop laughing.

"Ah, dude," said Soos. "I don't know what I expected that to taste like."

"Oh Soos, you're a card," I laughed.

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Meanwhile, alone in his own boat, Stan could hear his relatives and employees laughing and having a good ol' time.

"Traitors," he muttered. "Uhhhh, I'll find my own fishing buddies." He glanced hurriedly around the lake, and spied boat with a couple.

"Ah! There's my new pals." He fired up the motor, and headed in their direction.

The couple had rowed out for a romantic day on the lake. While the woman gazed up at the sky, the man glanced down at the ring he held.

He took a breath, exhaled, and said to her, "Now that we're alone, Rosanna, there's a burning question which my heart longs to ask of you."

"Oh, Reginald," she said, tears coming to her eyes.

"Hey!" called Stan. He pulled up behind them, interrupting their moment. Rosanna pulled toward Reginald.

"Wanna hear a joke?"

Before Reginald could respond, Stan interrupted again. "Here it goes: my ex-wife still misses me... but her aim is gettin' better!"

No one said anything in response.

"Her aim is gettin' better!"

The couple just gave him frightened looks.

"You see, it's funny because marriage is terrible."

The couple angrily paddled away.

"What!?"

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We were sailing into the muggy fog that surrounded Scuttlebutt Island. It was like twilight; nothing was distinct. The only tangible light was the one shining from the roof of the helm.

I was rethinking my decision about us coming out here at all. I reprayed that God would take us back.

Captain Dipper stood off to the starboard side of the bow, watching the fog. Associate Co-captain Soos was busy steering while I was shoveling fish flakes into the water. Co-captain Mabel stood at the bow of the boat with a pelican that flew in on the bowsprit.

"Hey, how's it going?" Mabel asked the pelican. She moved it's mouth like a puppet's as she voiced for it. "It's going awesome. Bow bow ba- bow bow!" Dipper strained to see her through the fog, and frowned at her antics.

"Mabel, leave that thing alone," he said.

"Aw, I don't mind none," replied Mabel through the pelican.

"Hey look! I'm drinking water!" She drank a glass of water, while trying to do the pelican voice like a ventriloquist. "Twinkle, twinkle, little-" she choked and sputtered on the water, and the pelican flew away.

"I hope that bird doesn't inform the Humane Society," I muttered shoveling more flakes into the dark waters. It wouldn't surprise me in this town.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing lookout?" Dipper asked his sister.

"Look out!" she said, throwing a volleyball at him. The ball hit his arm, and he whined slightly like an injured puppy.

She chuckled. "But seriously, I'm on it."

The boat slammed into something and shuddered to a halt, jolting everyone on board. The light at the helm went out

"See? We're here," said Mabel.

We had run aground on the shore of ScuttleButt Island. "I'm a lookout genius. Hamster ball, here we come."

We disembarked and let the light of Dipper's lantern guide us.

The island had pine trees that jutted out of the island like spikes, and the fog felt like chilled fingers against my skin. On a nearby rock of the island, I saw a lonely totem pole. It seemed like a ghostly cross in the dim light.

I hurried after the rest of the group.

We followed an old path in the woods. Owls called to each other, and it seemed that between the four of us, Mabel and Soos were the only ones smiling the most.

_The Pine Barrens has nothing on this place,_ I thought. We came across a sign on a tree that stated "ScuttleButt Island," while a smaller staked on the ground said "Beware."

_ Like Dipper's mosquito message,_ I thought. This was getting spookier by the minute.

Soos and Mabel paused by the first sign.

"Dude, check it out," said Soos. He covered the "Scuttle" part of the name with his arm. "'Butt Island.'"

"Soos, you _rapscallion_," fake scolded Mabel.

I wanted to laugh, but I was thinking about how much I wished I had brought my flashlight with us. Maybe a crucifix too.

Dipper stared incredulously for a second, until his sister asked, "Hey, why aren't you laughing? Are you _scared_?"

"Yeah, right" he scoffed. "I'm not-"

She poked him in the nose. "Yeah, you arrre."

"Hey, cut ou-" Mabel continued to poke his nose, blowing raspberries as she did.

"Qui-" She began poking his head.

"Stop- Mabel- uh-" but she wouldn't quit.

"Come on, guys," I said moving over towards them. "Let's try to be mature here; we're on a monster quest after all."

I was about to break them up, when we we heard something.

There was a unidentifiable but malicious noise that resounded through the woods, and caused us to pause in apprehension.

"Dude, did you guys hear that?" asked Soos.

"I wish I hadn't," I said. I kept thinking to myself _Greater is he who is in me than he who is in the world. Greater is he who is in me than he who is in the world. Greaterishewhoisinmethanhewhoisintheworld._

"What was that?" asked Mabel, backing behind Soos. Then a thought occurred to her. "Was it your stomach?"

"Nah," he replied. "My stomach normally sounds like whale noises."

Mabel placed her ear on his belly, and sure enough, heard the sounds of an aquatic mammal. "WOW," she said awed. "_So majestic_."

"It may have been my stomach," I admitted. "I didn't eat lunch yet, and I'm almost tempted to eat those fish flakes."

"Don't!" warned Soos.

Out of the fog, an opossum picked off Dipper's lantern lying in the path, and ran away with it.

Dipper gasped as it disappeared. "Our lantern!" We found ourselves surrounded in a cloud of white.

"Ah!" said Dipper frustrated. "I can't see anything!"

"OK guys, I'm officially frightened," I said. "This place is giving me bad vibes." Even though I couldn't see them well, I could feel their odd looks in my direction.

"Duuuude, I don't know man," said Soos in agreement. "Maybe this, uh, maybe this isn't worth it."

"_Not_ worth it?" Dipper asked him. "Guys, imagine what would happen if we got that picture!"

– Dipper imagined himself on a talk show, dressed like Indiana Jones (with the five o'clock shadow included). He tipped his hat cooly at the audience, and settled himself to speak with the host, Charlie.

"Tonight," said Charlie. "We're here with adventure seeker, Dipper Pines, who bravely photographed the elusive Gobblewonker. Tell me Dipper, what is the secret to your success?"

"Well, I run away from nothing," he replied, taking a swig of coffee that was set for him. "Nothing except for when I ran away from my annoying Grunkle Stan, who I ditched in order to pursue that lake monster,"

"How right you were to do so. He looked like a _real_ piece of work."

He walked over to Dipper, a medal in his hands. "I don't often do this, but I feel the need to give you an award." He placed the medal around his neck, and the two of them posed for pictures from the press.

There was a sudden crash in the wall behind the set, followed by a voice.

"Charlie!"

It was Mabel, panting inside a hamster ball, looking like she had been living in it for months.

"Why won't you interview me?!"

She ran her ball right at them, and Dipper and Charlie ran for their lives. –

Dipper came out of his imagination with a grin. "I'm in!"

"Me too!" agreed Mabel. The two of them ran into the woods. Soos took a glance behind them, then ran after them. "Alright dudes, I'm comin'!"

Not wanting to be left alone in the mist, nor wanting the twins (or Soos) to get into danger, I followed them, with an ever growing fear of what might await us here on the island.

"Uh, ladies first!" I called after him.

ZKR'V DIUDLG RI WKH ELJ EDG ZROI?

We had been walking for what may have been anywhere between a few minutes to a few hours. Between Mable and Soos' beep-boxing, I had lost track of time.

"My name is Mabel. It rhymes with table. It also rhymes with label. I also rhymes with shmabel."

"Dude, we should be writing this down," Soos told her.

"Already ahead of you," I replied, showing him the page in my journal where I copied their song. I found it in the backpack I took with us for the trip.

"Guys, guysguysguys!" whispered Dipper, signaling us to stop. "You hear something?"

There was the same low growling that seemed to permeate the mist. At this second round of the sound, a flock of birds took off from the other side of the island.

"This is it!" Dipper gasped excitedly. "This is it!"

Mabel and Dipper punched each other playfully, whispering "yes" excitedly and repeatedly. They walked in the direction where the flock was originally. Soos took up a sharped stick in his hand, patted his hat on his head with a look of intrepid determination, and followed suit.

"Guys, stop leaving me behind!" I whisper-shouted, as I leaped after them.

The fog seemed the thickest as we crossed to the opposite side of Scuttlebutt. So we none of us saw what was in front of us until Soos stopped us, suddenly alert.

And we saw why.

In the lake a little beyond the bank of the island, was a figure sitting in the water. It was shaped like the monster described by Old Man McGucket. We leaped behind a rotting log, and peered over it.

"Everyone," whispered Dipper, getting out his camera. "Get your cameras ready."

Soos had his pulled out already, and gave him a thumbs up. I had out the remaining two, ready to take a double shot. Mabel turned hers on, and got that starry-eyed look again, probably picturing herself with the human-sized hamster ball.

"Ready?" asked Dipper. "GO!"

Soos took off, yelling and holding his camera out at arm's length, followed behind by me and the twins. Soos was snapping pictures rapidly.

But as we came into view, we saw that the "monster" was nothing more than the remains of a sunken ship, and the home of a family of beavers.

One beaver said to the other in an animal language "I love cavorting!" Its companion said in return "That deserves a hug!" They hugged while a third one hobbled off and fell into the water. –

Soos kept snapping pictures of the wreck and wood eating semi-aquatic rodents while the rest of us stood dumbfounded.

"But..." Dipper was confused. "But what was that _noise_ then?- I heard a monster noise."

Just then the noise was heard.

"You had to _remind_ him?" I asked Dipper, half-anxious and half-angry.

But then we found the source of the noise on a fallen log: a beaver chewing on a chainsaw, and the chainsaw briefly coming to life and buzzing in response.

"Sweet!" replied Soos. "Beaver with a chainsaw!" He snapped a photo of it.

"Maybe that old guy was crazy after all," remarked Dipper.

"He did use the word 'scrap-doodle', said Mabel in agreement.

Dipper sighed in deep disappointment, while Soos continued to snap pictures.

I sighed with relief. No one was hurt, but this trip was more nerve-wracking then it should have been.

"And to think, we could have been fishing with Stan," I said. But out of regret.

L ZLVK L F RXOG JHW D VQDSVKRW RI WKDW.

Meanwhile, Stan was speaking to a boy fishing with his family.

"Look, when you thread the line, a lot of people don't know this, but you want to use a barrel knot. That's a secret from one fishing buddy to another. Eh-heh." He elbowed the kid.

"Uh... I, uh...who are you exactly?" the kid asked, frightened.

"Just call me your 'Grunkle Stan.'" He said patting the boy's head.

"Sir-s-s-sir," said the kid's irritated mother. "Why are you talking to our son? If you don't leave right now, I'm calling the police!"

"Heh-heh," replied Stan nervously. "You see, the thing about _that_ is-" He pulled the lever on his motor and left the family in his wake.

"Go bother your own kids!" She yelled after him.

ERB, ODGB LI BRX RQOB NQHZ …

Back on Scuttlebutt, Soos was taking photos of a beaver on a stump, who he thought was modeling for him.

"Ooo, yeah! Work it! Work it! Nice! Nice! Give me another one of those. Yeah, I like that one." The beaver then hopped off the stump and ran off. Soos was really getting into the beavers. Considering that he had teeth like they did, I guess they made him feel normal.

"What are we gonna say to Grunkle Stan?" asked Dipper sullenly. He was sitting on a rock that jutted out of the lake near the bank. "We ditched him over nothing."

He threw a stone angrily into the water, and sighed as he watched the water ripple his reflection.

"I guess we apologize and try to make it up to him," I said.

I was feeling pretty bad too, because I had a hand in our desertion, and I knew that I should have encouraged the twins to stay and give their grunkle a chance. _I_ should have given him a chance. _Some example I'm setting,_ I thought. I went back to the log to retrieve one of the cameras I had a dropped while rushing to snap photos of the 'monster.'

A sound rumbled through the water.

"Hey!" said Dipper. "Guys, do you feel that?"

Then he and the rock he sat on sank into the water. "Hey hey! Whoa whoa!" Dipper crawled out and scrambled up the bank, right before a flipping tail could slap him.

Mabel gave a slight cry. The back end of some enormous beast growled and swam into the fog, it's tail and back exposed.

"This is it!" exclaimed Dipper. He had his camera ready, and snapped a picture. "Come on," Dipper looked back at us. "This is our chance."

The lake beast was circling its way back toward the shore.

Soos and Mabel backed away slowly.

"What's wrong with you guys?" asked Dipper confused. A giraffe-like neck rose out of the water behind him.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" I called. I heard some yelling and splashing, and hurried to see what was happened.

"Dipper..." warned Mabel.

"Duuuude," warned Soos.

"It's not that hard, all right," Dipper replied, slightly irritated. The eyes of the creature glowed high into fog above Dipper's head.

"All you gotta to do is point and shoot. Like this." He turned around to get his winning shot of the beast. He trailed his line of vision through the lens from the water up to the face of oversized canines and glowing eyes of the Gobblewonker.

I was almost too shocked by the sight to react.

Almost.

"DIPPER! RUN!" I screamed.

The monster let out a roar, and everyone snapped out of their fear and took off.

"Run!" yelled Soos.

The three of us ran for the woods. Dipper dropped the camera and followed us. The monster gave another roar and flopped onto the bank, tearing down pine trees as it pursued us. One tree was about to fall on Mabel, but Dipper intercepted it and shoved himself and his sister out of the way. They went tumbling like a tumbleweed but broke free of the tumble and kept running, dodging falling trees left and right.

A tree limb snapped and was going to hit Soos, but I shoved him and we narrowly avoided it. A pine cone hurled itself toward my head, but Soos punched it away before it could hit. The twins eventually caught up with me and Soos, who for being usually slow, was remarkably fast under pressure.

"Get back to the boat! HURRY!" He screamed.

The Gobblewonker caught up and almost bit Mabel, who screamed and was picked up by Soos. He carried her on his back, and kept running. Dipper turned around, trying to get another shot. He got one, but tripped over a root, and the camera flew free from his hands and bounced toward the enormous girth of the Gobblewonker.

"THE PICTURE!" Dipper was going back for the camera, but Soos and I snatched him before he could go. Soos latched unto his life jacket, and carried him that way.

"Dude, if it makes you feel any better," said Soos. "I got tons of pictures of those beavers, dude."

"Why would that make me feel better?" exasperated Dipper.

We kept running and running, but the Gobblewonker was close on our tails. Ready to gobble us.

I wasn't sure how long I could keep running. I wasn't known for being the most active kid in the family. And now I might be the most inactive kid. _Permanently_.

"We should have just gone _fishing_!" I exclaimed regretfully, panting heavily.

EXW ZKHUH'V WKH HAFLWHPHQW LQ WKDW?


	7. Ch6:LOTG: Our Family Fun Day

Chapter 7: Legend of The Gobblewonker: Our Family Fun Day

Finally, the S.S. Cool Dude was in sight!

We belted for the grounded vessel. I leaped into the deck, Soos tossed Dipper to me, Mabel crawled off of Soos' back, and he clambered finally on board. Our combined weight offset the boat back into the water, and Soos took the wheel.

"Now let's get outta here, dudes!"

While the boat was steered in reverse away from the island, the monstrosity of the Gobblewonker crawled through the forest, roaring and knocking down trees like bowling pins.

"All right, this is it," said Dipper.

He pulled out another of his disposable cameras, and aimed for a shot, but there was a small problem.

"Cracked lens?! Soos, get a photo!"

But Soos was too busy throwing cameras at the pursuing monster to think of that idea.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Dipper screamed.

"Oh," Soos realized. "I still got one left, dude. Here!" He tossed the remaining camera, but it hit the edge of the helm and shattered into colorful plastic bits and rolls of film.

On the shore, the monster leaped into the water. It's long giraffe neck rose out of the water, and it cast a shadow over the deck. Soos ran to helm, and shifted the boat into higher gear.

The monster continued it's predatory chase. It aimed and tried to grab the boat in its mouth, but missed, and the impact of its strike cause the boat to ride a high wave. The wave tossed Soos into the helm, and Dipper and Mabel and I bounced as the boat landed. It reminded me too much of the waves at the Jersey shore.

Soos steered the boat out of reverse and back into forward gear.

"Gogogogogo!" shouted Dipper.

Soos pushed a lever, and the boat streaked across the lake and away from the oppressive danger behind us.

But there was yet _another_ issue ahead of us.

"Oh no!" I cried. "It's chasing us toward Stan!"

QHVVLH KDV QRWKLQJ RQ WKLV PRQVWHU!

Meanwhile, Stan was having trouble with a knot on his fishing line. "Ter-ga-moni-colic," he muttered.

"Can you pwease tell me more funny stories, Pop Pop?" asked a child's voice. The voice belonged to a child who closely resembled Dipper, but was younger. He was sitting in a boat next to his sister who closely resembled Mabel, and the two of them were listening to an elderly man who looked nothing like Stan.

"Anything for my fishing buddies," the man replied. He laughed, rubbing the Dipper kid's head.

Stan growled at the sight.

"Pop Pop," said the Dipper kid, bashfully. "I just wealized that..." his eyes grew round as he whispered his next words. " … _I wove you_."

"Aw, c'mon!" yelled Stan. "BOOOOOO! BOOOOOO!"

"Eh-heh- Hey now, what's the big idea?" questioned the grandfatherly man.

"Maybe he has no one who woves him, Pop Pop," replied the surprisingly insightful Dipper kid.

"Yeah, we-well I-I-"

But Stan was interrupted by Soos' boat rushing in out of nowhere, followed by the towering Gobblewonker in hot pursuit. The wake of the monster washed over the grandfather and his grandchildren, and Stan was thoroughly soaked as well.

He threw his hat in frustration.

Then sighed and sank into his boat.

SRRU VWDQ. KH JHWV QR ORYH.

The monster was outrageously fast, and gaining speed. I hoped that there was something other than us on board that could detain or else stop it completely.

The only thing I saw was the barrel of fish food. I grabbed the rim and dragged it to the stern.

"Iz, what are you doing?!" cried Mabel, alarmed.

"I might only be a side character, but I'm not dying today!" I called back.

I heaved the whole barrel overboard, and watched to see what the monster would do.

It didn't even pause.

It rammed the barrel right through, and scattered fish flakes everywhere. If no one caught any fish, it was because they had congregated where the barrel was destroyed.

"Well, I'm out of options," I shrugged.

The Gobblewonker never lost speed. It chased us back around Scuttlebutt Island, and down the other side of it.

"Soos!" cried Dipper. "Beaver!"

The beaver shipwreck laid right in front of us!

– "We're still beavers," said one in it's animal language. –

Soos tried to steer the boat away, but we rammed into the wreck starboard side, blasting the ship to smithereens and sending splinters and beavers flying into the air.

Angry beavers rained on the boat, clinging and chewing on every surface.

Including us.

Two were on Dipper's head, one grabbed Mabel's arm, and three clung to my ponytail. Another one leaped into Soos' face, and he ran from the wheel, disoriented and yelling a muffled "Dude!" Mabel shook the beaver off her arm, and took the helm.

While Mabel steered the boat away from the misted waters of Scuttlebutt Island, Dipper was able to shake off the buck-toothed rodents biting his hat, and many of the other beavers lost their grip as the boat changed direction. I had to grab my ponytail and whack it against the port side of the boat to loosen the vengeful rodents off.

While Dipper pulled off a beaver that was chewing the starboard side of the boat, Soos was running around in circles crying "Owowowowowow!" with a beaver on his face.

Dipper chucked beavers out of the boat. One beaver leaped on my shoulder, and I body-slammed the deck to get it off me. The Gobblewonker sank it's neck back into the water, while beavers continued to fall unceremoniously into the lake.

The lake monster followed us closely under the water. We now found ourselves speeding through a narrow channel of the lake where there were many people fishing in boats. We swerved to avoid them, but the Gobblewonker upset the boats and they flipped into the air, spilling screaming fishermen, poles, and tackle boxes.

Manly Dan was fighting a fish, and had it in a headlock. "HEADLOCK!" he yelled.

His sons cheered, "Dad! Dad! Dad!"

Until their boat tossed them all in the air from the wake of the monster. The Corduroy guys fell into the lake, and came up gasping for breath. The fish they caught rained on their heads.

"The fishes?" asked Manly Dan incredulously. "THEY SEEK REVENGE! SWIM, BOYS! SWIM!" They swam for shore and for safety.

We were still trying to escape the monster and rid ourselves of our rodent problem. Poor Soos still had a beaver clinging to his face, and he was trying to pry it off. Mabel steered, while Dipper and I continued to toss beavers out.

The Gobblewonker rose it's head back out of the water, roaring and shaking water from it's protruding canines and scaly face. It swung it's head trying to strike us, but Mabel swerved away from it. The beast tried again, and succeeded in knocking off the roof of the helm and the remaining beavers off the boat. We had ducked before it could knock us overboard.

Soos was still struggling to get the stubborn beaver off his face, so I grab it's scaly tail and pulled it. But it slipped from my grasp, and I fell to the deck. As I steadied myself, I saw ourselves speeding toward yet another obstacle. "Ahh! Mabel, Look out!"

"Easy, easy," said a mustached man. He and a fellow worker were carrying a glass window between their boats.

We didn't have time to avoid it.

"The glass!" yelled the other man after it shattered.

We had no time to apologize. The boat had found it's way into a narrow channel, and was leading toward a cliff with a waterfall.

"Where do I go?" cried Mabel. The twins looked to me and Soos for help, but I was too busy trying to pry the beaver off his face and being just as helpless as they were. The cliff was approaching fast.

Dipper pulled out the journal and flipped rapidly through the pages, searching for a solution. "Um... uh-uh- Go to the falls!" he exclaimed. "I think there might be a cave behind there!"

"Might be?!" cried Mabel.

I had finally succeeded in prying the wood-eating rodent from Soos' mug. But as we approached the rocky falls, we screamed and we shielded our eyes, Mabel with her hands, Dipper with the journal, I with my ponytail, and Soos with the beaver.

We braced for impact.

We sped under the pouring falls and into a cave. What was left of the boat ran aground on the sand, and flipped us off unto the floor. Soos landed both beaverless and topless. I landed face down on the sand floor, and disgusted spat grit out of my mouth.

After picking ourselves up and dusting off sand, the Gobblewonker shot into the cove. We screamed, and held each other, waiting for the monster to eat us.

But...

The roaring beast had jammed itself into the mouth of the cave. As it struggled to break free, stalactites and bits of rock fell from the roof of the cave. It roared in anger.

"It's stuck!" said Mabel.

"Ha, ha. Yeah!" said Dipper with triumph. "Wait. It's stuck?"

We ran up high ledge to get a better view.

"This is our chance, Dipper!" I exclaimed.

Dipper realized that this was the winning shot he was looking for. He reached inside his life jacket to get a camera, but then panicked.

He had no more. He searched about, but then Mabel picked up his hat, revealing the last camera, with a "Boo."

Dipper laughed at the face of failure, and began taking photos of the trapped lake monster. It tried to snap at him, but was just out of reach. Dipper was so happy, he was hopping as he snapped photo after photo.

"Did you get a good one?" Mabel asked him.

"They're ALL good ones!" exclaimed her brother. While the two of them cheered over their good fortune, Mabel placed Dipper's hat back on his head and they hugged each other.

"Looks like we'll be getting our one thousand dollars worth after all," I remarked. We could have died, but for once, I was too happy to care.

The monster kept roaring, the echoes of his defeat shaking the roof of the cave, until a large stalactite fell on it's snout with a metallic thud. The neck lowered, shooting sparks, into the pool of water under it.

"What the...?" asked Dipper, expressing all our thoughts out loud. He leaped off the ledge, and headed toward a fin of the creature, whose eyes were flickering like dying light bulbs.

"Huh?" Dipper felt the side of the monster's torso, then jumped back at how cold the scaly side felt.

"What's wrong?" called his sister. He furrowed his brow, and banged his knuckles against the monster, and a metallic sound echoed back. He then began climbing across the back of the Gobblewonker.

"Careful, dude!" called Soos.

"I've got this. Hold on!" Dipper called back, continuing his ascension. Soos, Mabel, and I held our breath, afraid of what Dipper might find.

"Hey, guys!" called Dipper from the back of the beast. "Come check this out!"

After waiting for the three of us to catch up, he showed us a door that was closed in the middle of the creature's back. Dipper and Mabel looked at each other, and Dipper grasped the wheel of the door and spun it. Steam hissed out as the tumbler pulled back in the door. Dipper then threw back the door, revealing hot steam and unlocking the secret to the mystery.

Inside...

… was none other than a crazy bearded old man, trying to work the gears of the monster machine.

"Eh?" he asked looking up at us. "Ahh, banjo polish!" he cussed.

"Old Man McGucket?!" I exclaimed.

"Wha-Y-_You?!_" exclaimed Dipper. "_You_ _made_ _this_? Wha-wha-_why_?"

"Well I... I, uh..." McGucket seemed ashamed. "I just wanted attention."

"I still don't understand," replied Dipper. None of us did.

"Well, first I just hooti-nannied up a bio-mechanical brain-wave generator, and then I learned to operate a stick shift with my beard."

"OK, yeah, but ..." replied Mabel. "_Why_ did you do it?"

McGucket removed his hat. "Well, when you get to be an old fella like me, nobody pays any attention to you anymore," he explained. "My own son hasn't visited me in months. So I figured maybe I'd catch his fancy with a fifteen ton aquatic robot."

He laughed manically. Then sighed.

"In retrospect, it seems a bit contrived. You just don't know the length us old-timers go through for a little quality time with our family."

Dipper and Mabel removed the hats that Stan had made them, and sighed sadly. So did I.

"Dude," said Soos. "I guess Isannah was right, in a way: the real lake monster is you guys. Heh heh."

We looked at him.

"Sorry, I just like-Boom!- just popped into my head there."

"Sooo," Mabel asked McGucket. "Did you ever talk to your son about how you felt?"

"No sir," he replied. "I got to work straight on the robut."

He pulled a lever, and a projector and projector screen popped up, revealing the blueprints of the Gobblewonker robot. "I made lots of robuts in my day."

He clicked a button to change the picture slide on the projector. A news article photo showed a robot pterodactyl in flight spewing fire and terrorizing townspeople.

"Back when my wife left me and I created a homicidal Pterodactyl-Tron. Oh," – he changed the slide to a photo of a man, – "and my pal, Ernie, didn't come to my retirement party," – the slide changed to robot shooting fire from his fire...arm – "and I constructed an eighty-ton _Shame-Bot_ that EXPLODED the entire downtown area!"

He laughed his maniacal laugh, and I wrapped my arms protectively around the twins.

"Well, time to get back to work on my death ray."

He ducked back into the robot control room, and we heard sawing, drilling, and jackhammer sounds come from inside. _No wonder his wife left him,_ I thought. His hand popped back up."Any of you kids got a screwdriver?"

I sighed. "You know, Stan might not be perfect," I remarked. "But he went to some trouble bringing us out here, so we could have fun together. I just wish I realized that sooner."

"We all do," replied Dipper.

"I don't," said Soos. "I was just driving."

"Well," said a disappointed Dipper, removing his camera. "So much for the photo contest."

"We still have one roll of film left," replied Mabel.

"What do you wanna do with it?" Dipper asked.

"I think I have an idea," I said with a hopefully smile. _It's not too late._

RK, LW'V WRR ODWH WR DSRORJLCH …

The sun was setting behind the cliffs that fringed the lake, and Stan, the last lone fisherman, was despondently making his way back to shore.

He sighed. Nothing had gone as he planned.

His relatives ditched him, his Family Fun Day was a bust, and he caught nothing at all that day. Even his tenant left him stranded by the dock. He was really looking forward to spending some actual quality time with his grand-nephew and grand-niece. And his tenant. But even she rejected him.

Why, he went to the trouble of making hats for those kids.

But they didn't want to be bothered with him.

No one did.

Especially not his own family.

"Hey! Over here!" called Dipper. We saw that the S.S. Cool Dude was still functional, and had set it out in pursuit of Stan. We waved as we came in sight of his boat, hoping to catch his attention as Soos steered us by.

Dipper took a photo of Stan with the remaining camera.

"What the-"said Stan in response. "Kids? I thought you three were off playin' spin the bottle with Soos."

"Well," replied Dipper. "We spent all day trying to find a legendary dinosaur."

"But," Mabel added. "We realized that the only dinosaur we want to hang out with is right here."

"Save your sympathy!" replied Stan dismissively. "I've been having a great time without cha." He counted off his fingers as he spoke. "Making friends, talking to my reflection, I had a run in with the lake police. Guess I got to wear this ankle bracelet now, so that'll be fun."

"So, I guess there isn't room in that boat for four more?" asked Dipper.

Stan squinted at us suspiciously. Dipper and Mabel placed the hats he made for them on their appreciatively. _I hope he makes a quick decision,_ I thought. _What's left of this boat's sinking._

We didn't have to wait long.

"You knuckleheads ever seen me thread a hook with my eyes closed?" asked Stan by means of invitation.

"Five bucks says you can't do it," challenged Dipper.

"You're on!" replied Stan. Dipper hopped aboard.

"Five more bucks says you can't do it with your eyes closed, plus me singing at the top of my lungs!" challenged Mabel.

"I like those odds," said Stan. Mabel got aboard the STANOWAR.

"It feels good to be called a knucklehead again," I said, coming aboard.

Soos just invited himself on board since his boat was pretty much swamped. "Whoa," remarked Stan. "What happened to your shirt?"

"Long story, dude," said Soos in response.

"All right, everybody get together," said Dipper. He held his disposable camera for a picture. "Say: fishing!"

"Fishing," the rest of us said.

"Dude, am I in the frame?" asked Soos. Dipper snapped the photo, and captured a moment to remember, and many more.

After that, I asked Stan, "Does this mean that I can call you 'Grunkle' now?"

"Only those two knuckleheads can call me that, kid," Stan replied.

"How 'bout just 'uncle?'"

"Don't make me dump you overboard."

"Oh, come on, it ain't that bad, 'Uncle Stan.'"

Soos and the twins gave me an odd look. "That sounds weird coming from you," replied Mabel.

"Agreed; I'll stop," I conceded.

With the waning sunlight hours, we fished, heard poor jokes, stole someone else's catch, and Stan had another run in with the lake police. All in all, a day redeemed.

The memories we were making reminded me of some that I had forgotten: my dad, brothers, and I rowing a canoe down the Susquehanna River in Pennsylvania; taking photos of our family at Niagara Falls in New York; fishing off a pier in New Jersey. Driving home, with no fish caught, my dad remarking, "I had a good time, didn't you kids?

"But dad, we didn't catch anything. How is that fun?" one of my brothers asked.

"But that doesn't matter. All that matters to me is that I had time with my family."

I didn't understand it any more than my brothers did at the time. But sometimes even boring lessons, like patience for a fish to bite, can teach us something that will be remembered and cherished forever: how to appreciate your family.

As we returned at last back to the shore for home after a long day of fun, thrills, and adventure,

I settled down in the boat, and began writing another entry in my journal. Somehow, it survived being soaked more than once. My entry was short:

_Well God, today we hunted for and found the legendary Gobblewonker. It was an adventure that taught me the importance of family togetherness as well as determine that beavers are notoriously protective of their homes. _

_ Even though it almost killed us, I almost wish that the Gobblewonker was real. The creature would be like a leviathan; outrageously huge, faster than waves, mysterious as the ocean. It's eyes would glow, and it would evade detection by swimming into the depths of the lake. It's aquatic like a seal, but of course would have to come up for air, but it would be so discreet, that even if it were close to a fisherman, he wouldn't recognize-_

We hit a bump in the lake.

"What was that?" questioned Dipper. Mabel shrugged.

I wondered about it, but decided to finish my thoughts in my writing.

After another harrowing adventure, Dipper decided to let the Gobblewonker mystery be left unsolved, and let the camera with the evidence sink into the murky depths. But as the camera sank, an aquatic creature swam by and swallowed it, descending into the deep darkness of the lake.

LW'V UHDO!?

PDBEH …

When we got home, the twins had almost fallen asleep on the way back, so they went to bed straightaway. Before Stan went to retire to his room, I decided mentioned something.

"Stan, I'm sorry that we didn't want to go fishing with you earlier."

He paused on the stairwell, and turned back puzzled.

"I really hadn't considered your feelings, and that was rude of me."

I had written an apology to God as well, but He wasn't the one who needed to hear it. "Can you forgive me?"

"Oh, save your sympathy," he dismissed, but with a tone that said all was forgiven. "I just need to keep a better eye on you, make sure you don't lure those kids into trouble."

Seeing the smile on his face, I replied, "Me? Trouble? I'm not the one with the ankle bracelet."

"Touche."

I laughed. "Soooo, are we friends?"

"Yeah, sure," Stan said nonchalantly, but he took off his fishing hat and placed it on my head. "Just don't call me 'uncle,' and we'll be _best_ buddies. Well, see ya tomorrow." He yawned and headed to his bedroom.

I removed his fishing hat, smiled at it, and took it with me upstairs to my own room, already falling asleep.

VKH ZRQ'W EH FDOOLQJ KLP "XQFOH."

Earlier, while Stan was telling jokes, another pelican (or maybe the same one) landed on Stan's boat, and Mabel jumped at the chance of telling one of her own lame puns.

"Who wants to hear a joke?" She made the pelican her puppet again.

"Not me," replied Dipper. He had heard enough of Stan's jokes. He wasn't in a laughing mood.

"He-yeh- Yeah, you do," giggled Mabel through the pelican. "Here it goes: why did the _pelican _get kicked out of the _restaurant_?"

"I don't caaaare!"

"'Cause he had a very _big bill._ La, la, la, la. Yuk, yuk, yuk. Blah, bleh, bluh."

Dipper groaned. "Boooo. Bad joke. Bad pelican joke."

"Yay, hooray!"

QHAW ZHHN: UHWXUQ WR EXWW LVODQG.

_A/N Hey-lo fellow readers! I was thinking about maybe going a little off the wall and placing a short between each actual episode. Since the Gravity Falls shorts are, of course, short, I figured that they would help give me the space to develop Isannah's character a little more since the episodes are pretty much all fully scripted out and leave little room for adding much without changing the story or affecting the flow too much. I know that the shorts weren't aired until after almost the end of Season 1, but since they have no real time reference as to when they might take place within the series (except for the shorts where Waddles and Mabel's friends appear), I figured that I could get away with adding in a least a few here and there between actual episodes. What do you guys think? Give me your opinions in the reviews section and let me know._


	8. Ch7: Fixin' It With Soos: Cuckoo Clock

_A/N: WARNING: This story has been revised from it's original version. It has been formatted to make better sense and reveal better character development. Many thanks again to AsTheDragonFlies for reviewing and telling me to go forth with the idea of using shorts, and for the great and obvious suggestion of having Dipper actually go to church with Isannah (you rock dude!). I've decided that I'm going to place a chapter with a short after every two episodes. I'm know that the shorts weren't aired until later in the series, so I'm going to try to fit them in context with the episodes that appear before them as best I can. AIFKU PDEO NAREOEKJ!_

Chapter 8: Fixin' It With Soos: The Cuckoo Clock

_ Ah, 7 a.m. on a Sunday morning,_ I thought, pouring myself coffee and trying to blink the sleepiness out of my eyes. I had toast scorching and eggs hissing in a pan. Coffee was brewing, and the su was lazily stretching out it's rays to the kitchen window.

The smell of toast and coffee must have coaxed the twins out of bed, because Dipper and Mabel came downstairs, yawning and stretching in their pajamas.

"Morning, Pinecones," I said to them, spreading butter on my toast. The nickname was an accident, slipping from my mouth after a late Saturday evening working. But it stuck, and the twins didn't seem to mind. (Although, I wouldn't call Stan a Pinecone for fear of being evicted).

"Mornin,'" yawned Dipper.

"Why are you up and dressed so early, Isannah?" asked Mabel. "It's only seven forty five."

"Gosh, I've gotta get moving!" I grabbed more eggs from the fridge, popped more the toast in the toaster, and hurried to grab plates from the cupboard.

"What's the rush, Iz?" asked Dipper puzzled. "It's Sunday."

"Exactly!" I said, grabbing flying slices of toast, throwing them on the table and setting plates over them. "I have church!"

"Oooooh," they said in unison.

"But what do you do in church?" asked Mabel.

"It's like college," explained Dipper. "She goes there to get a lecture about what she's doing wrong, and then learns how to live her life the right way."

"If that's your _only_ idea of church, then _you_ need to be educated," I replied, grabbing my mug and pouring a dose of coffee. "Church is so much more than that."

"How?"

"It's a place where Christians gather to talk, eat, sing, and enjoy being with each other because they all have a common belief in God," I explained, pulling the orange juice out of the fridge, and glasses from the cupboard. "I like the worship services the most, when we sing about how thankful we are to God about our lives."

I poured the juice haphazardly in two glasses, then absent-mindly dumped them both into the frying pan. "It puts you in the right mindset; it's Sunday, the start of the week, you'll be going back to work and to school, you'll be having problems and issues, you know, stuff you don't look forward to. Singing to God makes you happy and puts you in a joyful mood. Giving the first day of the week to God and being thankful for what He's done and is going to do in our lives makes it all worthwhile."

The twins looked at each other at this thought.

"Unless of course the songs picked to sing by the worship team are meant to put you in a sad and repentant mindset, then you'll go around all week mopping and wondering if you can change and if your soul is in the right place or just on it's way to-"

"Eggs are burning!" cried Mabel, pointing at the stove. I saved them, and scraped them off the pan with a spatula. I slid the juice infused eggs onto each of their plates, and hurried for my room, not bothering to eat myself.

"Well, I need to be there in fifteen minutes," I mentioned, heading back up the stairs to grab my shoes and a pair of toe socks. "You guys wanna come with me?"

"I would," said Mabel. "But I think that Grunkle Stan needs some help redecorating the place," she gestured dramatically. "So, I'm gonna help him today."

"What about you, Dipper?" I asked. "Got anything to do today?"

"Um, not really," he said. "I guess I could – "

"Great! Let's go!" I grasped his wrist and dragged him up the stairs with me. "Grab your hat, grab your shoes, and grab a notebook, 'cause today, you're going to be educated!"

Mabel continued to eat her breakfast. "Eggs over orange juice. Mmm. It's a continental breakfast made convenient for eating."

"Mornin' Mabel," said her great-uncle, entering the kitchen. "Where's the fast-talker and the paranoid at?"

"They're getting ready for church," she replied, crunching her toast.

"Oh great, _two_ fanatics in this house," he muttered.

He went to grab himself a mug for coffee, when me and Dipper ran into the room.

"Morning Stan! I'mtakingDippertochurch!Don'tworryhewon'tbeindoctrinatedbytheendoftheday!MindifIborrowthekeyforthegolfcart?Thanks!We'llbebackforlunch!YesIdiddrinktoomuchcoffee!Loveyouguys!Weneedtogo!Bye!"

I blitzed out of the kitchen, carrying a Bible under one arm, and Dipper in the other.

Stan stood in the doorway, watching his tenant and grand-nephew take off down the road. "Sheesh, if she would only get to _work_ that fast everyday," he muttered.

_-cue theme song-_

I drove us down the road to Holy Spirit Baptist Church. I was trying to control the caffeine overdose I was experiencing. I didn't want to be a stumbling block to the younger or newer Christians with my unintended misuse of coffee. Dipper sat uneasily in the seat next to me, trying to buckle his seat belt.

"Why didn't we just take Grunkle Stan's car?" he asked me.

"You … really … think … that … he would … want _me_ … to drive … _his_ car?" I asked with deliberate slowness.

"Point taken," he said.

"Besides," I replied, trying to control the speed of my words. "I'm … not … pulling … into … church … with … a car … that … has … the name … 'El Diablo' … on the … side."

"I don't know about this, Iz," he said to me.

"What's … bothering … you?" I asked him.

"I've never been to church. I won't know what to do, or how to pray, or how to dress-"

"At the church … where we're … going … none of … that … matters. All you have … to do is … show up. And if … you get … confused … about what you … should do … you just tell me … and I'll guide you … through it all."

He didn't seem much happier about the idea, but didn't say anything more on the matter. The town church steeple finally came into view.

The ground was soaked in last night's dew. I was just glad that it hadn't rained last night, or I would be coated with mud from my sneakers to the hems of my slacks. I was also glad that this particular church had no set dress code. Not that I would dress slovenly, but I wasn't used to wearing dresses and skirts for church. I never had to in my father's church, anyway.

We pulled into the driveway, just as Dipper asked me, "Sooo, what kind of church _is_ this one?"

"It's built like a … traditional one; it's got the tall steeple … wide wooden pews … churchgoers who have been attending it … for most of their lives. It's a simple church … nothing fancy. No stain-glass … no big music band or choir … no venerated sepulchers of past saints or rich town residents … It's my kind of place."

We walked through to the door, and were greeted by the church's freckly usher, Simon Zealot.

"Good morning," he said to us. Dipper glanced nervously at me, and I replied "Good morning, Simon." Dipper replied with "Uhhh, good morning, Simon."

"A friend of yours, Isannah?" he asked me.

"Yep," I told him. "Letting him come … to see what church is all about."

"Have a good time," he said as we moved inside.

"That's the greeter and usher," I explained to Dipper. "He's someone who stands by the door in the morning and greets whoever walks into church to make them welcome."

"OK. Sooo, now where do we sit?" he asked. "Is there some sort of seating arrangement here? What's the program?"

"Oh, we sit … wherever we want," I said. "Though usually we just kinda form a habit of sitting-"

I was interrupted in my thoughts by a "Izzy, Izzy! Sit next to me!" It was the voice of five-year-old auburn haired Ruthie, a little girl who came to church with her grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Constant. Her ten-year-old sister, Naomi sulked in the pew her family sat in.

"I'm coming, Ruthie!" I called. "Here, let's go sit next to them." I waved him over to the pew the family was sitting in, and Dipper followed me, scribbling something inside a notebook. He was actually taking notes. Well, I guess that to him, church was an anomaly, an unknown. He was curious about this place. I felt hopeful he would get some answers.

"Good morning, Mr. … and Mrs. Constant," I greeted. "Hey Ruthie … hey Naomi."

"Hey, Izzy!" Ruthie squeezed a hug into my midsection, while Naomi just gave me a hostile glare.

"Didn't I tell you last week to call us 'Maylyn' and 'George?'" said Mrs. Constant. "Mrs. Constant is my mother-in-law, and I'd rather not be referred to her."

"Then why did you marry me?" joked her husband.

"Because no one else would," she replied jokingly back.

I introduced Dipper."This cool guy here … is my pal, Dipper. He'll be joining us for Sunday school."

"Um, greetings," Dipper waved awkwardly.

"That's a funny name," Ruthie said to him.

"Ruthie, don't be rude," scolded her grandmother.

"Uh, it's OK- I don't mind," he replied. "It is kinda a weird nickname."

"Are you a Christian?" she asked him.

"Oops, here Ruthie, you wanna sit next to me?" I interrupted, seating myself between them. "Yes!" She eagerly took her spot next to me on my left, and Dipper sat to my right.

I handed Dipper a pamphlet. "This is today's schedule for the service, but that's for the adults who are listening to the main service," I explained, finally gaining normal speed control of my voice and feeling my nerves settle. "They don't have a youth group organized yet, so you'll be in the Sunday school for today."

"What's youth group and Sunday school?" he whispered.

"Sunday school is like a class where kids learn lessons from the Bible," I whispered back. "A youth group is similar, but is for older kids and teenagers."

"Why are you whispering?" asked Ruthie.

"I can't tell you," I whispered back. "It's a secret."

"Why can't you tell me?" she asked again.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret anymore," I replied, tousling her hair till she laughed.

Dipper scanned the congregation as more people filed in. "Is this it?"

"Is what it?" I asked him.

"Is this just everyone who comes here?"

"We don't get a lot of people here," answered Mr. Constant, who moved to the pew behind us to speak with Dipper. "We sometimes got the odd tourist or vacationer who wonder in here to get church checked off their checklist, or who are committed enough to pull off the road and listen to a godly message for the day. But we have the usual mix. Mrs. Callow, the woman who always sits in the back and organizes church gatherings, the Dale family, that huge family right across from us, including their second cousin George. He's one of the professors in Isannah's community college. And there's old Jemima Fluke, a self-proclaimed prophetess who's otherwise a kind if not mislead woman."

"Oh George!" scolded his wife.

"I'm only speaking the truth, Maylyn," he replied to her. "Oh, and those kids up on the stage there are the worship team, Rad, Chad, and Indigo. They're cousins. And that fine gentleman in the very front row is Pastor Warm."

While the worship team sang the opening song, Reverend Luke Warm took his place at his podium. His wife, son, and daughter sat in the very front row, wearing their meticulous clothes and sedulously curled hair. Not that I had any personal dislike for the family, but the Warm siblings never wanted to be bothered with anyone other than the worship team or their friends who would meet them after the service. And the daughter actually seemed snide to compliments, particularly from those with a seemingly lower position in church politics.

Before sitting down a few rows behind, the usher, Simon Zealot, walked by and said, "Hey, Summer, did you cut your hair? It looks nice."

"Save it, Simon Smellot," she muttered. "I know you're dying to date me."

"I wasn't trying to hit on you. I was just making a genuine-"

"I don't want to hear it. You dumped me because you said, 'I need to refocus my life on God before I can think of dating now.' Aren't I as important to you as God is?"

"Yeah, but God has to be the center-"

"Stop wasting your breath," replied her brother, Augustus. "Or we'll have a little talk with our father, and he'll rebuke you and kick you out of the congregation. Now get behind me!"he said, quoting Jesus about Satan. Dejected and stung, Simon headed to the back row.

"I see why he broke up with her," remarked Dipper.

"Those two are Summer and Augustus," explained Mrs. Constant. "They're the pastor's children."

"No way," replied Dipper incredulously.

"It just shows you how some pastors families are when the love of God doesn't mean anything to their kids," said George Constant. "Their parents don't raise 'em up right, and they think that just 'cuz they know the Bible, they're holy enough to treat people the way they do."

"It happens to a lot of Christian families," I told Dipper. "But not to all. It depends on how the kids are raised by their parents, but also on the personal choices of the kids themselves."

Then Pastor Warm bid us all good morning and told us to rise up together and worship God. I was glad, because I feared that I would sound defensive. After all, I was a pastor's kid myself.

KHUH'V D ZHLUG ULGGOH: FK _ _ FK.

"F-f-f-fixin' it with _Soos_!"

_-cue Fixin' It With Soos theme song-_

_ Scene:_ Soos stands in his bedroom of the Mystery Shack, ready to introduce a problem he can solve.

"Hey dudes," waves Soos. "Welcome to Fixin' It With Soos. The only home fix-it show that I edited myself on my own computer.'

**"High five!"** An enormous hand comes on the screen next to Soos, who high fives it. "Thanks clip art hand." The hand moves off screen. "Today, I have this broken cuckoo clock." He shows said broken cuckoo clock. "As you can see, it's _tore_ up from the _floor_ up. Stan knocked it down the other day by accident."

_ Flashback_: Stan is standing over the cuckoo clock with a bat in his hands in the living room.

"STOP MAKING THAT NOISE!" Stan yells, smashing the cuckoo clock on the floor. "I HATE YOU! This is definitely _not_ an accident!"

_Flashback ends._

"I'm gonna fix it up," explains Soos. "And when I'm done, Stan will rate my handiwork on the Awesome-ometer." He lifts up a large card stock with a drawn thermometer and the word "Awesome-ometer."

**"High five!" **the clip art reappears. "Not- not now, bro," replies Soos, waving him off.

_ Scene transition_: Duct tape! Wood glue! Hey, you!

ZKDW'V PLVVLQJ?

After the worship service, the children all filed down to the finished basement for Sunday School. Dipper and I followed after Ruthie, Naomi, and the Dale kids, who were taught by Mrs. Dale and me. Well, sort of; I was more of an assistant. We all filed into a line as we headed downstairs. Dipper looked a little uneasy, like it was the first day of actual school.

"Come on, Dipper," I encouraged. "It may be a little juvenile, but it'll be fun, I promise."

"OK," he followed me the rest of the way down.

We all sat around a table, while Mrs. Dale went up to a white board and began to draw out today's lesson. Mrs. Dale was a nice black woman, with hair neatly constructed into tiny braids. She apparently hired at least three babysitters five days a week to get chores done, have some spare time for her hair, and time to bake snacks for her Sunday School class. It wasn't hard for her so much teaching as it was keeping her kids under control.

"All right, everyone," started Mrs. Dale. "Today, we're going to learn about – Randy, Mommy's talking now, thank you. Today, we're going to learn about David and Goliath being able to – Michelle, don't pass notes to Naomi – to overcome our fears and dangers. Now, we're going to start with – Mickey, I see you making faces over there! – reading the story of David in the book of – You two stop kicking each other under the table right now! – first Samuel, chapter – I mean it you two! Knock it off! – Seventeen, verse – Don't make me come over there! – verse one. Now let's get started – Deborah, take your finger out of your nose,_ please_."

While we did a semi-focused lesson on the story of David and Goliath and the meaning in the story, I helped Mrs. Dale by separating the trouble-makers with different activities, like having a brother and sister color pages from a coloring book, or having wild Randy work with glum Naomi on decorating a felt board. I worked the most with Ruthie. She was a shy girl, and didn't really know how to interact with the sprightly children of the Dale family.

"Here, Ruthie," I said. "Do you want me to help you cut out your 'sword of the spirit?'" It was in an activity book, with the verse "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. - Romans 8:37, NIV.

"Sure," she replied, handing me the scissors she was holding dangerously in her tiny hands.

"Oh wait, you didn't color it," I remarked. "Why don't you color it?"

"Can you help me?" she asked, holding a yellow crayon.

"Nice color choice," I answered, guiding her hand around the edges of her cut out sword.

"Thanks, Izzy," she answered.

All this time, Dipper sat across from me, flipping pages of an open Bible, and seeming lost in the pages. "What are you looking for, Dipper?" I asked, while Ruthie continued where I left off.

"I'm just trying to figure out where the history of the Israelites starts," he told me. "I figured out where the history of the world starts, but I'm trying to find out where Saul where first became king. I got lost somewhere in Leviticus."

"Oh, try reading the beginning of first Samuel," I suggested. "That's where the history is. The books of Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy are mostly books of Jewish law, but there are some stories about what happens to the Israelites. If you want to know how the Israelites got to the Promised Land, then got back further into the last chapters of Genesis and the book Exodus, and into the last chapters of Deuteronomy, and read the book of Joshua."

"Izzy, can you cut out my sword?" piped Ruthie.

"Sure thing, kiddo," I said, taking the scissors again and cutting closely along the edge.

"So, how's the Bible interesting you?" I asked Dipper while concentrating on my task.

"These stories are unbelievable!" he replied. "Who knew that there was so much supernatural activity in the Middle East? There were giants, angels, demons, and-and this is all recorded in history!"

"It gets better," I told him. "What till you read about the Flood, and about Moses and the Burning Bush, and the talking donkey, and the day the sun didn't set, and –"

"Wait – don't spoil it for me!" he cried, flipping through chapters. "If I had only known that the Bible had so many supernatural occurrences recorded, I would've bought one years ago."

"And history's most widely read book satisfies again," I remarked. I had finished cutting out Ruthie's sword, which she waved heroically.

"Careful there, Ruthie," I said. "You wouldn't want to accidentally hurt someone with that sharp sword."

"I'm David's sister, and you're Goliath's sister," she replied, beaming a baby-toothed smile.

"Better watch out," I warned. "Your brother killed my brother, and I'm not happy about that at all." I stood on my toes, and pretended to growl with fury.

"Oh no, I'm not scared of you! I got the sword of the spirit!"

"Oh no! My weakness! Don't come near me with that! No! No!" I began running in circles while she chased me, until she stabbed me in my calf. Dipper just smiled, rolled his eyes, and continued to read the Bible.

"Oh, you got me!" I went down like a tower of blocks, and she stood on top of me in victory.

"I killed her!" she called triumphantly.

"I hope not," remarked Mrs. Dale. "Now that's enough, you two. It's snack time."

While Ruthie ran to get her apple juice and cookies, I slowly got up from the floor and chuckled to myself. I knew that after snack time I was going to help Randy clean up the mess he made with the felt board, and try to engage Deborah and Ruthie in a game of "Slingshot Bowling" (without the actual slingshot), but it never got tedious. Spending time with these kids was the best time of my week.

Dipper got up last to grab a cookie, still absorbed in Scripture.

_With all the fun we're having,_ I thought. _I wonder what fun Mabel and Soos are having without us at the Mystery Shack._

X U

_Scene_: Soos' room, where Soos is holding up the taped up cuckoo clock. "Almost there," says Soos. "Although something's off." The bottom half of the clock falls apart. Soos ponders his dilemma.

"Aha!" he exclaims. "It needs decorations!" Mabel then walks into the room, sipping from a juice box.

"Oooo, make it leopard print," she suggests.

The next shot shows the clock in leopard print and a dangling fuzzy dice. Mabel is now eating a bag of chips.

"Ahhhh, what else does it need?" she asks.

"A beach house!" replies Soos. "So the cuckoo can live in style."

_Scene ends_.

_Scene_: Soos' room, where Soos and Mabel have added a beach house next to the clock, along with some toy birds next to the cuckoo bird's hollow.

"Now the bird's gonna need some homies," says Soos.

_Scene change for close up_.

Soos points to each bird he placed and names them. "I'll call you Curt, Jayden, Carlos, and Diandre."

_Scene change to just Soos and Mabel, who name off other decorations for the cuckoo clock._

"Some boom boxes!" says Soos.

"A slide, and a ball pit!" says Mabel.

"A pyro-technics kit!"

"_Real_ animal fur!"

"Lasers! LASERS, DUDE!"

_Scene change: _Still Soos' room. Something glows off screen, the project which Soos and Mabel have decorated together.

"What do you think?" asks Mabel.

"It's too dull," says Soos. "I can't cope!"

_Scene ends._

WLPH IOLHV ZKHQ BRX EXLOG D FORFN

The class cleaned up the mostly Dale made mess, and we headed downstairs to either go home, mingle with some of the fellow churchgoers, or else remain for a Bible study. Dipper and I remained to mingle with some of the churchgoers.

Dipper asked Mrs. Dale, "Say, I was wondering if I could borrow this book?"

"The children's Bible?" she asked for clarification.

"Sure," he said. "It's a long book, and I'd like to finish reading through some of the stories."

"I have a Bible at home, Dipper," I said. "You could borrow mine."

"You sure?" he asked, handing the Bible back to Mrs. Dale.

"Of course! In fact, I actually have a study Bible you can read. It gives you information on the culture of the Bible days, and has biographies of the Bible characters,; it's a great tool for understanding the rest of text."

"All right," he said. "Can you give it to me when we get back to the Mystery Shack?"

"Dipper, you can have that book for the whole summer," I said as we walked out the door to the golf cart. "You think you want to come back next week? I hear that Mr. Dale is going to start a youth group and get his oldest kids involved."

Dipper contemplated this thought for a moment. His pensive look made me think that maybe he wouldn't want to come back.

Just as I started the cart, he said, "Only if Mabel comes with us."

I couldn't contain my smile. We drove out of the driveway, and back to the Shack.

MHVXV ORYHV WKH OLWWOH FKLOGUHQ, DOO WKH OLWWOH FKLOGUHQ RI WKH ZRUOG.

_Scene:_ Living room, where Soos stands next to the cuckoo clock, ready to unveil it for Stan to see. Mabel stands next to him, holding the 'Awesome-ometer,' while Stan stands across from them, arms crossed, looking bored.

"Mr. Pines," says Soos. "Are you ready for the grand unveiling of your brand new cuckoo clock?"

"You've joined forces with Mabel," Stan replies. "This is an unsettling development."

Soos pulls the cover off the clock. "Voila!"

The cuckoo clock is crazy assortment of music, lights, a toy beach house, speakers, a gumball machine, a satellite, a pair of sunglasses, a wig, a toy car, a syrup bottle with the top of a baseball trophy, are marquee scrolling the message "THIS IS AN AWESOME CUCKOO CLOCK," among other things.

"So Stan, what do you think?" asks Soos.

Stan gives the creation a puzzling look."Why is it permanently set to 1:50?"

"It's hands are in the air," replies Soos, "like it just doesn't care." Out of the cuckoo hollow springs a thumbs up that says "RAD." Soos holds it in his arms and asks Stan, "So, one to ten; what do you give it?"

"Well," says Stan. "It doesn't make that horrible cuckoo sound anymore, so- I don't know- ten out of ten- whatever."

Soos is so happy he drops the cuckoo clock and it breaks to pieces.

_Scene ends._

_ Scene transition: _Lots of explosions, most of them with problems. **SOLVED!**

_Scene_: Soos computer room, with Soos sitting near the desk of his computer, where it is still rendering the previous scene transition.

"Join us next time as we fix my computer," he says, "because I think I crashed it permanently making some of those graphics."

His computer proceeds to explode and catch fire.

"Did we get that? Save it for the explosions reel!"

"Hey guys!" Mabel called from downstairs as Isannah and her twin walked through the door. "You're ho-ome!

"What's burning?"asked Dipper.

_Scene ends._

UHG, BHOORZ, EODFN DQG ZKLWH, WKHB DUH SUHFLRXV LQ KLV VLJKW

RK, MHVXV ORYHV WKH FKLOGUHQ RI WKH ZRUOG!


	9. Ch8: Headhunters: Mabelangelo

Chapter 9: Headhunters: Mabelangelo

It was an easy afternoon in the Mystery Shack. We were watching the TV show Duck-tective, Dipper eating popcorn, and Mabel and I knitting while we watched. I guessed that Mabel was knitting a sweater, but I was knitting a pair of socks. My first pair too. It would explain if they didn't fit, or had several toes too many.

"I'm afraid your services won't be required here sir," said a constable on screen. Mabel reached for a handful of popcorn, but Dipper slapped her hand away. "My men have examined the evidence and this is obviously an accident." He gestured to a body squeezed whose limbs had been squeezed into the door of phone booth.

A duck walked up to the booth, quaking what is presumably subtitled on the screen. "Accident, constable? Or is it..." He dramatically looks at the camera. "Murder?!"

"What?!" the constable. A duck foot logo popped on the screen with the caption "Duck-tective."

"Duck-tective will return after these messages," announced an announcer.

Mabel dropped her knitting, and her pupils dilated. "That duck is a _genius_."

"Ehh," said her brother. "It's easier to find clues when you're that close to the ground."

"Are you saying you could outwit Duck-tective?" questioned his sister doubtfully.

"Mabel, I have very keen powers of observation," said Dipper. "For example, just by smelling your breath, I can tell that you have been eating..." he paused for a moment, and took a couple of whiffs to identify what she consumed "... an entire tube of toothpaste?"

Mabel turned away, appearing to regret that idea. "It was so sparkly."

"Betcha can't guess what I was eating," I said with a confident smirk.

"Well, judging by that corn kernel between you're front teeth, I'd say that you were sneaking handfuls of my popcorn into your mouth."

I then closed my lips, trying to floss out the incriminating evidence with my tongue. I smiled again. "You have no way of proving that."

"Hey, dudes." As we turned to the sound of Soos' voice, he slid down the hall, broom in hand, with an excited grin on his face. "You'll never guess what I found!"

"A closet that opens into the _Twilight Zone_?" I guessed, sneaking another handful of popcorn.

"Buried treasure!" guessed Dipper.

"Buried-eh heh hey-" Mabel shoved her brother. "_I_ was gonna say that."

We followed Soos to the top floor, and down a dark unused corridor. Mabel placed a hand on Dipper's shoulder for security, and took my left hand for assurance. "So I was cleaning up," Soos explained, "when I found this secret door hidden behind the wallpaper. It's crazy bonkers creepy. " He showed us a door that had been previously concealed by the wallpaper, but now had the outline cut out and opened. Soos pushed the door open further, and the distant light from the hall revealed a room filled with...

… wax figures.

"_Whoa_," whispered Dipper, turning on a flashlight. "It's a secret wax museum." He paned the flashlight beam around the silent figures.

"Either that or this is the fate of all those tourists who never bought anything and never made it back to their cars," I remarked. "Maybe Stan taxidermed them." I wouldn't put it past him.

"They're so lifelike," remarked Mabel, touching one with the tip of her finger.

"Except for that one," Dipper said, pointing to a figure that had a small but pronounced belly. "Hello," said the figure.

We screamed in terror.

Dipper brought the beam to the figure's face. "Heh heh, it's just me, your Grunkle Stan."

We screamed in terror and ran out of the room.

_-cue Gravity Falls theme song- _

After we recovered from our scare, Stan found the light switch for the room, and showed us his marvelous collection. "Behold, the Gravity Falls Wax Museum," Stan introduced us. "It was one of our most popular attractions... before I forgot all about it. I got 'em all." He pointed to each wax figure as he listed them off. "Genghis Khan, Sherlock Holmes, some kinda..." He paused at a figure of Larry King. "I don't know- goblin man."

Dipper looked like he would gag. "Is anyone else getting the creeps here?" he asked.

"Yeah, my skin's crawling," I said in agreement. I bumped into something, and glanced beside me at a wax figure of Anton LaVey. I gave a brief and shrill shriek, and moved rapidly away from the Satanist figure.

"And now for my personal favorite," Stan continued, "Wax Abraham Lincoln, right over-oh- OH! Oh no!" There was nothing in the figure's place but an open window of sunlight and a melted puddle (next to an angry looking woman figure holding an ax). "Come on! Who left the blinds open?Wax John Wilkes Booth, I'm lookin' in your direction." He bent down to inspect the damage. "How do ya fix a wax figure?" He drew a finger through the melted wax, and gazed sadly at his once favorite figure.

"Cheer up, Grunkle Stan," Mabel tried to console. "Where's that _smi-le_?"

"Neh," he said.

"Beep, bop, boop!" said Mabel, poking his face with each word.

"Ow," he replied. He stood up, no doubt to prevent her from reaching his face.

"Don't worry, Grunkle Stan," she told him. "I'll make you a _new_ wax figure from all this old wax."

"You really think you could make one of these puppies?" he asked her.

"Grunkle Stan," she said in a professional tone. "I'm an arts and crafts master. Why do you think I always this glue gun stuck to my arm?" She showed said glue gun stuck to the sleeve of her right arm, and tried to shake it off.

"I like you're gumption, kid," her great-uncle replied.

"I don't know what that word means, but thank you."

Later, Mabel sat with a block of wax in an empty room, sketching ideas. I was in the room with her, helping to sketch some ideas together while procrastinating on homework. Dipper went to check his twin's progress, sipping from a can of Pitt soda pop.

"Dipper!" Mabel jumped the step ladder she had sat on, surprising Dipper to drop his can and inhale his beverage. He spluttered and coughed.

"What do you think of my wax figure idea?" she asked, showing him her sketch. "She's part fairy princess, and part horse fairy princess."

"Mmm, maybe you should carve something from _real_ life," her brother suggested.

"Like a waffle," she said, drawing a new picture in her sketchbook. "With big arms."

"Yea-OK, or you know something else. Like- like someone in your family."

"I still think that she should sculpt a Biblical figure," I remarked, showing him a sketch of a shepherd boy. "If Michelangelo could make history crafting a naked David, imagine how famous you'd be dressing him."

"Kids," said Stan walking into the room without wearing pants. "Have you seen my pants?" He stood under a beam of sunlight that leaked into the room, his hand shielding his eyes from the light, as though he were gazing out into the distance, as he stood with a foot atop a briefcase.

Mabel's eyes grew wide. She had found her inspiration.

"Oh, Muse," she whispered. "You work in mysterious ways."

"Why is your sister talking to the ceiling?" Stan asked Dipper.

"Maybe she's praying," I suggested. "I talk to the ceiling all the time when _I_ pray."

Mabel got to work. She carved all afternoon, and finished painting her figure by early evening. When she at last was finished, Dipper, Soos and I gathered into the room to see her masterpiece.

"I think... it needs more glitter," she remarked critically.

"Agree," said Soos, handing her a bucket of glitter. She took the bucket, and threw the contents all over the wax figure.

Stan then walked into the room, thankfully with his pants, but without shoes. "I found my pants," he said, "but now I'm missing my-" he screamed at the sight of Mabel's creation, then began backpedaling across the room until he fell flat on his back.

"What do you think?" asked Mabel.

"I think," Stan said. "The wax museum's back in business!"

With that, Stan set up the Wax Museum of Mystery Grand Re-Opening, and minivans swarmed to the Shack. Soos directed traffic with corn dogs, and Wendy and Dipper handled the admissions table.

"I can't believe this many people showed up," remarked Dipper to Wendy.

"I know, right?" agreed Wendy. "Your uncle probably bribed them or something."

"He bribed me," Dipper affirmed, pulling out a bill. Wendy pulled out one given to her, and the two of them chuckled.

Meanwhile, Soos came up and the stage to help me move the rest of the wax figure collection onto it.

"Don't any of these wax people just scare you?" I asked him.

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Like the Wax Some Goblin Man. I'm afraid he's going to interview me or something."

"I just hope we left behind that-" but I screamed because, no, Wax Anton LaVey had been brought down for display. "It's _him_! Take him away! Take him away!" I covered my eyes.

"Who's this guy?" Soos asked.

"The man who started the Satanist movement and whose deepest desire is to overtake the weak and destroy the hope of our salvation through Jesus Christ," I replied cowering behind Shakespeare.

"Ooooh, tough break," he said.

"Say, isn't you're whole name 'Jesus?'" I asked him in sudden realization.

"What's _your_ full name?" he asked instead. "I don't remember."

"Isannah Elizabeth Tannenbaum," I replied.

"'Tanning Bomb?'" he asked incredulous. "That's outrageous! In the good way. Ooo! Ooo! Quick, let's do the handshake!" He meant the one that he and Mabel were fond of using, with the fist bump and the explosions. But this time, he said, "Tick," as he held out his fist. So I copied him, not sure where this was going yet, saying, "Tick." Soos finished with a "BOOM! Tanning Bomb! Dude, we should call you something like 'The I-Bomb' or 'I-namite.'"

But before I could respond, Stan called us to our places, and Soos and I stood to one side of the stage while we waited for Stan and Mabel to unveil the newest addition to the museum.

Mabel stood on stage in front of the Shack, patting her face in excitement. She stood under a sign that claimed "Eighth Wonder of The World," Soos stood on the other side of the stage, and Stan stood behind a podium with the whole wax collection, including her shrouded creation. He coughed, tapping the microphone as means of a sound test, and the townspeople and tourists who sat in rows in front of the stage grimaced at the sound.

"You all know me folks," began Stan. "Town-darlin', Mr. Mystery. _Please_, ladies! Control yourselves."

The only single women in the crowd just sat without comment. "Oh brother," I muttered.

"As you know," Stan continued, "I always bring the people of this fair town novelties and befuddlements, the likes of which the _world_ has never _known_. But enough about me." He stepped form the podium to the shrouded wax figure, ad grabbed the draped sheet. "Behold!" -he tugged the sheet off, and revealed a wax sculpture in his likeness, posed smiling with a thumbs up, coated in sparkles- "Me!" Soos pressed a triumphant trumpet sound from a Beeblyboop keyboard of sound effects. He then pressed a "Yea-UH!" sound effect. He pressed this key multiple times.

Two people in the audience were dully impressed, and clapped almost noiselessly. Another coughed. No one looked particularly enthusiastic.

"And now a word from our own, Mabelangelo," Stan said, handing the mic to Mabel. "It's Mabel," she said modestly. She walked downstage to speak to the audience.

"Thank you for coming," she said to the bored, indifferent audience. "I made this sculpture with my own _two_ hands! It's covered in my blood, sweat, tears, and other fluids."

The audience gagged and muttered in disgust.

"Ha ha, yeah," responded Mabel awkwardly. "I will now take questions. You there." She pointed to someone who raised his hand.

"Old Man McGucket, local kook," the man with a Band-aid beard explained himself. "Are the wax figures alive, and, follow up question, can I survive the wax man uprising?"

"Um," Mabel said, not sure how to respond. "Yes! Next question." She pointed to another hand in the audience.

"Toby Determined, Gravity Falls Gossiper," the reporter showed his newspaper, and pointed what looked like a microphone in her direction, "do you really think this constitutes a Wonder of the World?"

"Your microphone's a turkey baster, Toby," mentioned Stan.

Toby looked at it with his oversized eyeglasses."It certainly is-"

"Next question," interrupted Stan.

"Shandra Jimenez, a _real reporter_," said a female reporter. "Your fliers promised free pizza with admission to this event. Is this true?" She held up a flier with the advertisement as she spoke. It did indeed promise pizza.

The crowd grew angry and boisterous at this unrealized promise. Dipper and Wendy glanced at each other, nervously. Soos and I gave each other the same look.

Stan finally said something about that purposefully overlooked detail. "That was a typo. Good night everyone!" He threw a smoke screen onto the stage, and escaped the stage. He grabbed the cash register as he ran by the admissions table.

People began to physically and verbally protest. A man in the audience who brought his "Free Pizza" T-shirt sighed sadly, and walked away, disappointment evident in his gait. An angry woman in the crowd kicked a chair with an elderly woman in it, and grabbed and threw another one. Wendy's father punched a pole holding up the "Wax Museum of Mystery Grand Re-Opening," yelling "In your face!" The fuming crowd quickly dispersed from the event.

Dipper and Wendy sat tensed behind the admissions table. I took to hiding behind the stage, and Soos just continued to play his keyboard, playing "Yeah-UH!" Mabel walked by and leaned on a corner of the admissions table saying "I think that went well."

After sundown, the Pines family and I were situated in the living room. I walked in the room, having just finished washing the dinner dishes, Dipper was reading a chapter of the book of Daniel and sitting atop the T. Rex skull, while Mabel was shining up Wax Stan Pines. Stan was rolling bills in his greedy hands.

"Hot pumpkin pie!" said Stan after counting his earnings. "Look at all this cash! And I owe it all to one person."

Mabel faced him, expecting admiration. "This guy," said Stan, gesturing to his wax twin.

Mabel punched his belly with a smile on her face. "Ooo," said Stan in response. "Heh heh, yeah, you too, you little gremlin," he said, rubbing a hand on the top of her head, and then rubbing her face. "Now you kids wash up. We got another long day of fleecing rubes tomorrow. Go, go!" He pushed us out of the room, Mabel with a bit of a hurt expression on her face.

Stan sighed, and leaned against the wax figure's shoulder. "Kids," he said to Wax Stan.

"You did a great job with that wax figure," I told Mabel as we ascended. "You could put this on your resume, and anyone will have to hire you. Maybe you could even start your _own_ business: self sculptures by Mabelangelo Pines."

"Oh, stop!" she said modestly. But I gushed all the same; considering the reception she had gotten today, she needed some attention to all her hard work. And she didn't protest, which was what I hoped for. We parted at the landing to get into our pajamas.

"Well, Duck-tective," said the constable on the TV show. "It seems you really 'quacked' the case."

"Don't patronize me," quacked the duck detective.

Stan laughed, and hugged the still wax figure around the shoulder. "Ah, stupid duck. Well, I'm gonna use the john." He stood up from the comfortable chair, and headed to the hall. "You need anything?" he asked the figure.

Wax Stan just lay still and sparkled with glitter.

"Heh heh!" Stan laughed. "I love this guy! Don't you go nowhere." He left the room.

Outside, a foreboding gust of wind blew and a wolf howled in the distance. The weathervane eerily creaked on the roof. The wind blew through the window into the upstairs bathroom, where we were taking care of personal hygiene. Mabel and Dipper were brushing their teeth, while I was standing closest to the mirror, brushing my two foot length of blonde hair and checking the mirror for stray strands. It was still damp from a previous shower, but I knew if I didn't get control of it now, it would turn into a frizzy disaster later.

"Dipper, you wanna do a toothbrush race?" asked Mabel from her seat on the edge of the bathtub.

"Ogay," he said, his mouth full of suds.

"Don't swallow anymore toothpaste," I chuckled.

From downstairs came a horrified cry of "No. No! NOOOOOOOOOO!" We raced downstairs, and found a shivering Stan in the dark living room.

"Wax Stan," he said as we arrived. "He's been m-m-MURDERED!"

We all tensed and stared at the now headless form of poor Wax Stan. A grandfather clock chimed a death knell for the fallen figure. BONG. BONG. BONG. Mabel grew faint.

"I'm calling that LaVey was behind this," I responded. "But first, I'm calling the cops."

The local police were phoned in. Gompers, the Mystery Shack goat, was placidly eating grass outside, watching the spinning siren flashed it's blue and red eyes after the officers filed in and took in the situation. In the living room, we all stood or knelt by the headless Wax Stan while Sheriff Blubs sipped coffee and his deputy took notes.

"I get up to use the john, right?" Stan explained to the officers. "And when I come back – BLAMMO! He's headless!"

"My expert handcrafting, besmirched," remarked Mabel in a grievous tone, patting the upper chest of the wax figure. "Besmirched!" She began to weep. Dipper offered her shoulder a comforting hand. "Who would do something like this?" he asked.

"What's your opinion, Sheriff Blubs?" asked Deputy Durland.

"Look, we loved to help you folks," explained the sheriff, "but let's face the facts: this case is _un_solvable."

"WHAT?!" the Pines yelled causing Sheriff Blubs to splash his coffee. "You take that back, Sheriff Blubs!" demanded Stan.

"You're kidding, right?" asked Dipper. "There must be evidence, motives. You know, I could help if you want." He rubbed the back of his neck as a nervous gesture.

"He's really good," affirmed his sister. "He figured out who was eating our tin cans!"

"All signs pointed to the goat," he said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "This guy here helped me find my hairbrush this morning."

"For some reason it was in the vegetable crisper in the fridge, next to a cucumber," he remarked in memory.

"Yeah, yeah, let the boy help," agreed Stan. "He's got a little brain up in his head." Like no one would assume that.

"Ooo," Sheriff Blubs elbowed Deputy Durland. "Would you look at what we got here?" he said in a condescending tone. "_City Boy_ thinks he's gonna solve a mystery with his fancy _computer phone_."

"City BOOOOOOEEE!" hollered Deputy Durland obnoxiously. " City BOOOOOOEEE!"

"You are _adorable_," gushed the sheriff.

"Adorable?" asked Dipper. It wasn't the first word _I_ would have used to describe him. The police men laughed at him. Dipper scowled, obviously ticked off at their comments.

"Look, PJs,"the sheriff addressed Dipper. "How 'bout you leave the investigatin' to the grownups, okay?" He held his hand toward his deputy, who low fived it.

"Hold that thought," I said. "I need to blow my nose. There's an _offensive_ stench in this room." I walked down the hall, giving a pointed glare at the unhelpful and hurtful policemen. I had to leave before I said anything worse.

Sheriff Blubs radio sounded. "Attention all units: Steve is going to fit an entire cantaloupe in his mouth, repeat: an entire cantaloupe."

"It's a twenty-three sixteen!" said the deputy, eager about the challenge.

"Let's move," said the sheriff. They guffawed and laughed as they ran to their vehicle.

"I hope Gompers eats their siren!" I called from the hallway. "Those two windbags are loud enough on their own!" I couldn't hold back my fury anymore.

"That's it!" Dipper fumed. "Mabel, we're are gonna find the jerk who did this, and get back that head! Then we'll see who's adorable." Then, he gave a tiny sneeze.

"Awwww, you sneeze like a kitten," said his sister. Dipper gave her an expressive frown in response.

That was when I blew my nose. "BUUUUUHHHHHH!"

Whenever I did, my nose made a sound like a foghorn: loud and trumpeting. It was only _not_ embarrassing when I was trying to wake up my brothers on Saturday mornings.

"And you blow like a barge," remarked Stan. I blushed red in response. _Serves me right for bad-mouthing the authorities,_ I ruminated. _Even if it was true._


	10. Ch 9: Headhunters: The Wax Murderer

Chapter 9: Headhunters: The "Wax" Murderer

I had difficulty resting that night, unsettled obviously by the sudden "murder" of Wax Stan, and also wondering what called me to say what I had about the sheriff and his deputy. Sure, they weren't helpful, but I knew that what I said wasn't respectful and didn't help anymore than their words had. When I thought about it, I realized that I wasn't just mad for Dipper; I had internalized what the officers said as well. I guess the reason was because when I was Dipper's age, and even after seven years of maturing, people still didn't take me as seriously as I wanted them to. Some of it was my usually kind personality, naivety, and maybe that I was a blonde. I did have a touch of autism, an impression people no doubt got from the awkward way I sometimes behaved socially, or the fact that at times I surprised people with a smart idea. But I believe that some of other people's perception of me stemmed from still being a "young and dumb" teen. Let's face it; being a teenager means people expect you to act like an adult, but they treat you like a kid, even after the age of eighteen. With these thoughts in mind, I fell into a restless sleep.

The twins got me up early the next day, and we searched the scene of the crime for possible clues. Even though today was Sunday, I decided that looking into this murder was important enough to take some time away. After all,what if the culprit was so mad that he was trying to behead _Grunkle _Stan and mistakenly hit Wax Stan?

We set up a criminal investigation. I was continuing to nail toilet paper over the threshold and around the room with red marker warnings like"do not cross" and "crime scene," and Dipper had set up a board of possible suspects.

"Wax Stan has lost his head, and it's up to us to find it," said Dipper while his sister got photos of her besmirched handiwork with a disposable camera. He turned to his board of suspects.

"There were a lot of unhappy customers at the unveiling," Dipper said, peering at the photos of suspects with a discriminating eye. "The murderer could have been anyone."

"Gasp!" said Mabel. "Even _us_!"

I was becoming more afraid for Stan as we worked, which was almost out of character for me. _Those policemen should have been more concerned._

"In this town, anything is possible," replied Dipper, pulling the journal out of his body warmer. He began to flip through it, searching for possible ideas. "Ghosts, zombies, it could be months before we find our first clue."

"Hey, look! A clue," Mabel pointed. A pair of footprints were at the "head" of the headless Stan.

"Footprints in the shag carpet," observed Dipper.

"But those could be ours," I pointed out. "We've been all over this room."

"That's weird," remarked Mabel thoughtfully. "They've got a hole in them."

Dipper followed them to the left arm of the arm chair. "And they're leading to..."

We gasped. There was an ax concealed behind the chair!

We brought it in to the gift shop for Soos to get a look at it. "So what do you think?" asked Dipper. Mabel gave the sharp tool a hard squinted stare, as if trying to envision who used this possible murder weapon to kill her beloved creation.

"In my opinion," replied Soos, testing the feel of the object in his hands, "this is an ax."

"The question we should be asking," I mentioned thoughtfully, "is who we know of from the unveiling yesterday that could wield a weapon like that?"

"Wait a minute," thought Mabel. "The lumberjack!"

In that moment it dawned on Dipper as well. "Of course!" the twins said simultaneously.

Briefly they flashbacked to the moment the lumberjack punched a hole in the pole that held the sign announcing the wax museum's re-opening. "IN YOUR FACE!"

"He was furious when he didn't get that free pizza," recalled Dipper.

"Furious enough for _murrrderrrrr_," agreed Mabel.

"Oh, you mean Manly Dan," said Soos. "Yeah, he hangs out in this crazy intense biker joint downtown."

"Then that's where we're going," remarked Mabel decisively.

"Dude, this is awesome," said Soos. "You two are like the Mystery Twins."

"Don't call us that," replied Dipper.

"You should have heard what he called _me_ yesterday," I remarked.

"Yeah dudes," said Soos. "Did you know her last name was Tanning Bomb?"

"It's Tan-nen-baum," I clarified.

"Yeah, and I was all like 'We should call you 'The I-Bomb.'"

"I prefer 'I-namite.'"

"Awesome! I'm on a roll with these names. Quick! Let's break with the new handshake!"

With Dipper shouldering a backpack holding the ax, we hurried out the front porch of the gift shop where Gompers was chewing, no doubt on more tins cans. We walked briskly past Stan, who was struggling to pull a coffin out the trunk of El Diablo, his car.

"Hey give me a hand with this coffin, will ya?" he said to us. "I'm doin' a memorial service for Wax Stan. Somethin' small, but classy." He pulled again, then rested the upper half of the coffin on the ground to take a breather.

"Sorry Grunkle Stan, but we've got a big break in the case," said Dipper.

"Break in the case!" repeated Mabel.

"We're heading in town right now to interrogate the murderer," explained Dipper.

"And hopefully not get kicked out or harmed as nosy, under aged kids with who have no business in a scary biker joint for oversized men," I added.

"We have an ax," said Mabel, pulling it out from Dipper's backpack. "Ree, ree, ree."

"Huh, this seems like the kind of thing a responsible parent wouldn't want you doin'," said Stan, thoughtfully.

He paused briefly. "Good thing I'm an uncle." He placed a foot atop the coffin, and raised a fist in the air. "Avenge me, kids! AVENGE MEEEEE!"

Downtown in Gravity Falls, we located the biker joint that Soos had referred us to, and hid in a back alley beside the building. Dipper inched his way forward, back pressed against the Dumpster, while Mabel appeared hiding under a garbage bag inside the Dumpster. I just walked casually by behind them.

"Are you guys sure you don't just want me to go in and interrogate Manly Dan for you?" I asked. "I mean, I think that would be a little better, a little wiser, a little _safer_."

"You might need backup in case he's uncooperative," Dipper said. "Guys this tough never want to give you a direct answer."

"Besides," said Mabel. "It's dangerous for a single woman to be alone in such a dangerous place anymore."

"So bringing a couple of twelve-year-old kids into a dark restaurant full of questionable characters is supposed to make me feel safer?" I asked a little sarcastically.

"I knew you'd understand," said Mabel. I rolled my eyes.

Dipper pulled out the address he was given by Soos, saying, "This is the place." We peeked around the corner, and saw an oversized, dangerous looking guy spotted with patches of tattoos (one on his forehead labeled "HEAD," and another on his chin labeled "CHIN") guarding the entrance to "Skull Fracture,"the biker's restaurant. He glanced our way, and we furtively ducked out of sight.

"Got the fake ID's?" Dipper asked his twin. She handed them to him, and he held them to see how they appeared. "Here goes nothing," Dipper said with finality.

I looked over at the fake ID's. "He'll never fall for that_,_"I remarked.

The Skull Fracture bouncer looked over an ID card. "Sorry, but we don't serve miners."

The coal-dust coated miner stomped in frustration. "Daaaagnabbit!" He hocked and spat, then walked away irritated.

Mabel and Dipper approached the bouncer next. "We're here to interrogate Manly Dan the lumberjack for the murder of Wax Stan," said Mabel, and the two of them held out their homemade ID's. They were just photos of them with mustaches and googly eyes, with the aliases "Sir Dippingsauce" and "Lady Mabelton." Dipper's age on the fake ID was 45, and Mabel's was cards had stickers, macaroni, and glitter; Mabel touches. "Dee-de-lee-de-leet!" Mabel shook her card, and made her googly eyes bounce. Their great-uncle's influence of illegal activities was rubbing off on them.

"I'm with them," I said, showing him my driver's license. "And I'm at least over the age of eighteen."

The bouncer looked at our cards. "Works for me." He opened the door, and out poured metal music and the sounds of men fighting and yelling. We walked right in.

It was dimly lit inside, but not so much that we couldn't see why minors (and miners) weren't allowed here. We watched one guy take a punch to his face and lose a tooth. We stood still, listening to the sound of breaking objects and gruff anger, none of us too keen on going anywhere inside yet. Dipper took a glance around, and finally motioned us further in.

I felt like I was walking through a dark, noisy, smelly forest of gorillas rather than the scariest place in town. Men towered far over heads, beating their fists, knocking each other over like trees, and being the general alter ego of gentlemen. I felt like I was a six-grader sharing the halls with the high school boys all over again. Good thing we had a twelve-year-old kid with an ax to protect us.

Mabel stepped over the legs a fallen man. "He's resting," she observed.

"Not in peace?" I asked uneasily.

"All right," Dipper addressed us. "Let's just try to _blend in_, okay?" He began to walk to the other side of the room.

"You got it, Dippingsauce," replied Mabel. I wasn't sure what to do, until Mabel sat up on stool by the bar, next to a burly biker with a Pitt soda pop in his hand. "Hey there, fellow restaurant patron," she addressed him. "Bap." She patted his arm. He looked up, and growled, seeming more like a gorilla than I was happy with.

I pulled up a stool between the two of them, sat down, and was meaning to say "Please don't kill us!" but instead said, "So, you wanna know your future?" _Why did I say _that_?_

"Oh yeah," said Mabel. "My cootie catcher! Thanks for reminding me, Iz. That's a great way to break the ice!" She pulled it out, and began to instruct the biker on how it was used. I sighed out of relief, believing I just saved Mabel's life, and my own.

Meanwhile, Dipper found Manly Dan at the other side of the restaurant, playing with an arm wrestling arcade animatronic called "Bicepticus." He howled as he held the arm, trying to slam it down while the score board beeped a score of 9999.

"Manly Dan," called Dipper. "Just the guy I wanted to see." He wasted no time getting to the point. "Where were you last night?"

"Punchin' the clock!" replied Manly Dan, slamming a fist on the game for emphasis.

"You were at work?"

"Nooo, I was punchin' that clock!" He pointed out the window to the street clock outside, dented from his blows. It was wrecked to the point that the time on it had stopped completely.

"Ten o'clock," noted Dipper. "The time of the murder." He scratched his forehead thoughtfully.

"Sooo, I guess you've never seen _this_ before?" he asked, pulling out the ax.

"Listen LITTLE GIRL!" yelled Manly Dan.

"Hey, actually I'm-"

"I wouldn't pick my teeth with that ax! It's left-handed! I only use _right_ hand!" With a grunt, he ripped the animatronic hand off the machine, wires and all, and began punching Bicepticus in the head with it. Dipper backed away a bit, and Tyler randomly ran up and cheered, "Get 'im! _Get_ 'im!" He giggled while Manly Dan roared in victory.

"Left-handed?" thought Dipper with a raised eyebrow.

Meanwhile, we were quickly becoming friends with the biker over reading his future from the cootie catcher. We all counted off as Mabel flipped the paper edges open and closed.

"... three, four, five, six." Mabel opened it, and we leaned in to read what it said. Mabel and I gasped. "Your wife is gonna be beautiful," Mabel told him.

"Yes!" he fist pumped.

"Guys!" called Dipper. "Big break _in the case_!" We followed him out the exit.

"But will she love me?" called the biker despondently.

"As long as you do the dishes, you two will be inseparable!" I called, heading out into the blinding sun. I followed behind Mabel as we headed down the sidewalk, listening to whatever information Dipper got from Wendy's father.

"It's a left-handed ax," Dipper informed us, jotting down an organized list in a notepad of everyone who was at the unveiling yesterday, and writing out a right-handed category, and a left-handed category for each person.

"These are all our suspects," Dipper continued. "Manly Dan is right-handed. That means all we gotta do is find our left-handed suspect, and we've got our killer."

"Oh, man," said Mabel. "We are on _fire_ today! Pazow pazow pazow!" She shot air blanks with her fingers.

"You're not including me on that list, are you?" I tensed.

"Why would we? You weren't there at the murder," he replied. "Were you?"

"No, I was taking a shower at that time," I affirmed. But I didn't lose my nervous tension. _They haven't realized, have they? They haven't noticed that about me yet. Better if they don't. I wouldn't want them accusing the wrong person._

Dipper turned to face us, his countenance fixed with determination, and his mind no doubt brewing with great ideas."Let's find that murderer." We bumped fists, one after the other.

I said:"Tick."

Dipper said: "Tick."

Mabel said: "Tick."

We said: "BOOM!"

Throughout the rest of the day, we searched out our suspects, and tried many tactics to see whether they fit the description of our left-handed suspect. First, was Old Man McGucket at the town dump. I simply waved at him, and he waved back, his right hand stuck in the mouth of an alligator (or maybe it was a crocodile? Caiman? Over-sized iguana?) Not him.

Next, Dipper posed as a postman bringing a package for the fat Free Pizza T-shirt Guy, asking for his signature. He signed a clipboard with his right hand, and Dipper took it and package back and walked out of his yard, leaving him disappointed as yesterday. Ain't him.

After that, we found the angry chair busting woman walking down the street. Mabel whistled for her attention, and threw a baseball at her. She caught it, and crushed it in her right hand. No dice.

We then tried a tall guy that had been at the Shack yesterday, who also happened to have a garden gnome in his front yard. (I didn't take my eyes off the abominable ornament). He answered Dipper's knock, with both hands in casts. Definitely not him.

Dipper checked off his list everyone we came into contact with, and they all turned up right-handed. Until Dipper flipped a page on his notepad.

He gasped. "Guys! There's only one person left on this list." He showed us his results.

"Of course," replied Mabel. "It all adds up."

I looked down at the name written. "I knew there was something shifty about him when I saw that turkey baster." I dialed the cops on cell phone. "Let's head down to the Gravity Falls Gossiper. It's time to stop the presses."

It was sundown by the time the cops arrived, armed with flashlights and hoping this was a serious situation. The five of us all positioned ourselves outside the door of the Gossiper, the cops on both sides of the door, me behind the deputy and the twins behind the sheriff.

"You kids better be right about this," warned Sheriff Blubs, "or you'll never hear the end of it."

"Believe me," I replied, "we wouldn't have bothered calling you again if we weren't positive."

"The evidence is irrefutable," replied Dipper confidently.

"It's _so _irrefutable," emphasized Mabel.

"I'm gonna get to use my _nigh-stick_!"said Deputy Durland excitedly.

"You ready?" Sheriff Blubs asked, holding a nigh-stick of his own. "You ready, little fella?" The two of them whooped and batted each other playfully with the sticks. It felt promising to see the cops become excited with us in our confrontation.

"On three," commanded Dipper. "One, two-"

Durland kicked the door open, and he and the sheriff rushed in.

"Nobody move!" commanded Blubs. "This is a raid!"

Toby Determined fell out of his office chair in surprise as the officers trailed the flashlight beams on him. "What is this? Some kind of raid?"

Durland was so excited about using his nigh-stick he knocked over an innocent lamp standing on a VCR.

"Toby Determined," addressed Dipper. "You're under arrest for the murder of the wax body of Grunkle Stan."

Mabel addressed him next. "You have the right to remain _impressed_ with our awesome detective work."

"I think we should call the next news headline 'Toby Predetermined' as in _predetermined_ murder!" We high-fived. I knew the term was actually "premeditated," but I was too pleased with myself to care.

"Gobbling goose feathers," replied Toby. "I don't understand."

"Then allow me to explain," replied Dipper. He flashbacked to the previous days events, with the addition of his own idea of how he murdered Wax Stan.

"You were hoping that Grunkle Stan's new attraction would be the story that saved your failing newspaper. But when the show was a flop, you decided to go out and make your own headline." Mabel held the front page of today's paper for him to see the photo of Wax Stan's decapitated head.

"But you were sloppy," I continued, flashing back to the clues found, and the fact that Toby was holding the turkey baster with his left hand. "And all the clues pointed back to a shabby-shoed reporter who was caught _left-handed_."

"Toby Determined," said Mabel. "You're yesterday's news." She crumpled the newspaper and threw it over her shoulder to demonstrate.

Toby didn't say anything at first. "Boy, your little knees must be sore," he finally said, "from _jumping_ to _conclusions_!" He did some short victory dance over his word play. "Ha-cha-cha! I had nothing to do with that murder."

"I knew it!" exclaimed Dipper. But then he and Mabel back-tracked.

"Wait- wha- did you say nothing to do- he said nothing..."

"Wait- huh -what- could you repeat?"

"Then where were you the night of the break-in?" asked Blubs. I noticed that he didn't say "attempted murder". He obviously didn't consider the beheading of Wax Stan to have been a premeditated possible murder planned for the real Stan. He wasn't paranoid enough to consider the idea.

Toby pulled his collar nervously.

"Hey, is that a video camera?" I asked, pointing to a corner in the ceiling near the door.

"Check the film," said Dipper.

We played the tape from last night. We saw Toby Determined open the closet by his desk. "Finally, we can be alone," he said, pulling something flat out of his closet, " cardboard cut-out of female news reporter, Shandra Jimenez." He began kissing the tall cut-out. We all expressed various levels of disgust. "That's gonna give me nightmares," I muttered.

"Times stand confirms it," Blubs said. "Toby, you're off the hook, you freak of nature!"

"Hurray!" cried the freak of nature.

"But," stuttered Dipper. "But it has to be him! Check the ax for fingerprints!"

Blubs dusted the ax handle while Durland held a black light over it. "No prints at all," confirmed Blubs.

"No prints?" thought Dipper befuddled.

"Hey, I got a headline for ya," said Durland to Toby. "'City Kids Waste Everyone's Time.'" The three pompous adults laughed at us. Dipper and Mabel looked away, feeling rather foolish and awkward.

I felt my face turn color with rage. "But how is this all possible?! We found that ax in our living room and we've never seen it before! Someone had to have broken in and tried to murder Stan! Sheriff, you have to help us with this investigation. What if the murderer comes back and tries to hurt Stan, or worse, one of us? We could be-"

"Do I really need to hear anymore of this?" asked Blubs unimpressed. "You've wasted enough of our time, Shoobie. The next time you call, we'll find a _real_ emergency to deal with instead." With that, he and his deputy walked out, Durland hollering "City KIIII-IIIDS!"

Being called a "city kid" was hardly an insult compared to being called the New Jersey word for an out-of-stater.

"Boy, I'd be pretty embarrassed if I was you kids," said Toby. Meanwhile, the tape still played him smooching the tall piece of cardboard behind him.

_Least we don't have to keep our friends stored in a closet,_ I thought bitterly. How come adults found people like him more credible than kids concerned about a likely threat?

That night, we held a memorial funeral for Wax Stan. Organ music was being played by an organist in a corner of the room. _Who's playing that music?_ I thought. _I didn't think that Stan would go to the trouble actually hiring an organist for the funeral._

Stan stood in front of a podium to give a speech in his memory. He addressed each group who was seated for the funeral.

"Kids, older kids, lifeless wax figures, thank you all for coming." Soos blew his nose sadly.

"Some might say that its wrong for a man to love a wax replica of himself," Stan continued.

"They're wrong!" jumped Soos.

"Easy Soos," replied Stan. "Wax Stan," he addressed his wax twin. " I hope you're pickin' pockets in Wax Heaven." He shed a few tears, something that was completely out of character for him ( but considering who he was mourning, not too surprising). He ran from the podium. "I'm sorry! I got glitter in my eye!" He ran from the room of wax figures. Soos wept following after him. "Du-hu-ude..."

I blew my nose, resounding like a fog horn. I wasn't depressed about the demise of Wax Stan much at all; I just almost sneezed. "Sorry guys," I apologized. "This room's dusty." I felt pretty bummed out, and even more unnerved than before. Something bad was gonna happen to us; I could just feel the danger in the room. Of course, I was probably being hyperactive from fear and paranoid from all the crazy creatures we've had to deal with the last couple of weeks. What was next?

"Huh,"sighed Dipper. "Those cops were right about me."

"Dipper," replied his sister. "We've come so far. We can't give up now." She held the ax in her lap.

Her brother stood up, and walked over to the coffin where Wax Stan lay. "But I considered everything. The weapon, the motive, the clues." He gazed in at the glittery figure, and sighed defeated.

"Then there must be something else we haven't considered yet, " I concluded., standing up to throw away my used tissue. "Or there must be a part of a clue we're missing." I walked over and peered into the coffin. "There isn't anything unusual about Wax Stan's body or appearance we've missed besides his head, is there?"

"Wax Stan's shoe has a hole in it," Dipper noticed. Mabel walked next to him.

"All the wax guys have that," she replied. "It's where the pole thingy attaches to their stand dealies."

"Wait a minute," remarked Dipper with a sudden thought. "What has holes in it's shoes and no fingerprints? Guys, the murderers are-"

"Standing right behind you?" finished a British voice. We turned to look behind us, and watched in stupefied horror as the figures came to life and moved towards us.

Dipper gasped. "Wax Sherlock Holmes! Wax Shakespeare! Wax Coolio?"

"'Wassup, Holmes?" asked Coolio.

I screamed, and pointed at the organ across the room. "WAX LAVEY IS ALIVE!" I screamed again, and hunkered far behind the twins.

He played the organ dramatically while laughing wickedly.

Wax Lizzie Borden snatched her ax out of Mable's grip. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" said Mabel, backing behind her brother.

"Congratulations, my three amateur sleuths," said Sherlock Holmes. "You've unburied the truth, and now we're going to bury you." He pointed a magnifying glass at us like a pistol, and we shrank back in terror.

_We're dead, we're dead, we're dead, we'redeadwe'redeadwe'redeadwe'redeadwe'redead..._


	11. Ch 10: Headhunters: Case Closed

_A/N This chapter has been slightly edited, so don't be surprised that it's been re-uploaded. Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews! _

Chapter 11: Headhunters: Case Closed

With his left hand outstretched, Sherlock Holmes showed himself to be the murderer. Even though he wasn't holding the ax, he was still terrifying. I mean, he's a talking, walking, _murdering_ wax figure for crying out loud!

"Bravo, Dipper Pines," addressed Holmes, removing a smoke pipe from his mouth. "You discovered our little secret." He removed Wax Stan's head from inside his coat. He then turned to face the wax figures behind him. "Applaud, everyone! Applaud sarcastically." The wax figures obeyed him, sort of. "Ah, no, that sounds too sincere. Slow clap." The crowd clapped slower. "_There_ we go. Nice and condescending."

"But, how is this possible?" asked Dipper incredulous."You're made of wax!"

"Are you _magic_?" asked Mabel mystified. Oh, how her sweet little heart could possibly hope.

"Are we magic?" laughed Holmes. He turned to glance back at his cohorts. "She wants to know if we're magic." Unprovoked, he aggressively slammed his right fist on the coffin behind the twins.

"We're _cursed!_"

"Cursed," echoed the other wax figures. "Cursed." Lavey began to play haunting music from the organ.

"Cursed to come to life whenever the moon is waxing," elaborated Holmes, who turned away from us. "Your uncle bought us many years ago at a garage sale."

Coolio jumped in. "A haunted garage sale, son!"

The wax figures flashbacked to the day that Stan bought them, by a man who owned an ancient house with that was surrounded by a cemetery. Stan was with the owner checking out some wax figures stored in a garage.

"I must warn you," the owner told Stan, wiping sweat off his brow, "these statues come at a terrible price." In response, Stan looked at the price tag attached to Sherlock Holmes.

"Twenty dollars?! Eh, I'll just take 'em when you're not lookin'."

"What?"

"I said I was gonna rob ya."

"And so, the Mystery Shack Wax Collection was born," said Holmes as he remembered. "By day, we would be the playthings of man."

"But when your uncle went to sleep," added Coolio. "We would rule the night." They thought back to when they would stay up at night, hanging out in Stan's home, and playing pranks on him while he slept.

"It was a charmed life for us cursed beings," continued Holmes. "That is until your uncle closed up shop." His voice was dripping with contempt.

After years of renovation and dust, the room was finally rediscovered when Soos came across the fallen doorknob that opened the door to the room that stored the cursed statues.

"We've been waiting ten years to get our revenge on Stan for locking us away." Holmes recalled the moment when he held Lizzie Borden's ax left-handed, and swung at Wax Stan's head. He dropped the ax behind the chair, and grabbed the chopped head. "But we got the wrong guy." He heard Stan returning to the room, and beat a hasty retreat.

"So you were trying to murder Grunkle Stan _for real_?" asked Dipper with unabridged horror.

"And the cops thought _I_ was crazy!" I cried. I was still terrified, but now I was angry as well. Stan was no saint, but he didn't deserve to die. How dare they threaten us!

"You guys were right all along," said Mabel. "Wax people _are_ creepy, and evil!"

"Enough!" shouted Holmes. He had been staring into the blazing fireplace as he spoke, but turned back to address us. "Now that you know our secret, you must _die_." His eyes rolled back into his head, and the other wax figures around him had followed suit. They approached us, moaning like zombies thirsty for blood. As Wax Lavey played a dirge, we backed away into the refreshments table.

I prayed desperately like a cartoon character awaiting her demise. "God, save us! God, save us! Godsaveus!Godsaveus!"

"What do we do? What do we do?!" shrieked Mabel fearfully.

"I don't know!" replied her brother. He glanced behind him at the refreshments table, grabbed some items, and threw them at the wax mob. Mabel and I followed suit, throwing napkins, plasticware, cups, cookies. Nothing had any affect, until Dipper grabbed the coffee, and threw it at Wax Genghis Khan, who screamed and backed away as his face melted from the hot beverage.

"That's it!" cried Mabel. "We can melt them with hotty melty things!" The two of them grabbed the battery powered candles lit on the table, while I grabbed the poker by the fire, and we held them out like light sabers, daring the cursed figures to come at us. The wax figures backed away fast, gasping in fear. My, how the tables had turned.

"Anyone move, and we'll melt you into candles!" threatened Dipper.

"_Decorative_ candles," added Mabel in the same threatening tone.

"You really think _you_ can defeat us?" scoffed Holmes.

The twins had rather uncertain replies.

"It's worth a shot, I guess."

"Eeehhh, I don't know. I'm not really sure."

"Fourteen against three doesn't sound like fair odds," I replied. _Maybe this will be like Gideon against the Midianites._ I was afraid of these wicked monsters, but I tried hard to steady my drumming heart. I knew Who's side I was fighting for, and Who was looking out for us.

"Then so be it," said Holmes. "Attack!"

His cohorts followed his order, and charged.

Wax Lizzie Borden swung her ax at Mabel, but she ducked. Wax Borden missed and loped off Wax Robin Hood's head instead. Mabel kept her candle trained on her, but when Wax Shakespeare sneaked up behind her, she swung her hot electric candle and his arms were half melted, half chopped off. She pointed the candle at him, and he ran. One of his wax arms flew up and grabbed Mabel by the neck. She dropped her candle weapon, and choking, stumbled by the door. Desperate for air, she opened the door, and slammed it repeatedly on the hand's fingers.

I stuck my poker in the fire to reheat it, but Wax Edgar Allen Poe was approaching towards me, looking like he wanted to seal me up inside a wall to die. I pulled out my poker, and jabbed his eye. He screamed, yelling "Augh! Don't let the crazy guy murder me! My eye isn't evil!" and ran around in circles, until I sliced the poker across his legs, and he fell. His feet kept running confusedly around the room.

Wax Queen Elizabeth II charged me next. I said to her, "Pardon me, your Highness!" ducked beside her, and then shoved her into Wax Lizzie Borden, and the two women tripped and somersaulted about. Lizzie Borden furiously sliced at me, by accidentally sliced Poe's head with it.

"'Nevermore'," I quoted.

"Interview _this_, Larry King!" shouted Dipper, slicing that statue's head off with his candle. "My neck!" cried Wax Larry King. "My beautiful neck!"

Wax Groucho Marx tried to grab the candle, but his hand melted as soon he touched the fake flame. "Joke's on you, Groucho!" Dipper sliced him in half. "I've heard about a cutting remark, but this is ridiculous," replied Wax Groucho, holding an air cigar as his upper half slid off. "Hey, why is there nothing in my hand?" Dipper smirked with triumph. But not for long.

Wax Genghis Khan charged at him, roaring, his face melted in rage. Dipper leaped out of the way, and Wax Khan ran into the burning fireplace, and splashed into a wax puddle on contact. "Ha, Genghis Khan!" laughed Dipper. "You fell harder than the...uh, I don't know, uh, Qing Dynasty? Heh. Yeah. All right." He picked himself up and hurried to save himself and us from the rest of the creepy evil figures.

Mabel was holding her own pretty well. She had Wax Coolio's decapitated head by one of his stringy dreadlocks and was swinging it around like a sling as wax statues tried to surround her. Coolio's head whacked painfully into their faces, while he said "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" The wax figures collapsed from Mabel's blows. This fight was really gruesome.

"Wassup with that?" Coolio's head asked Mabel when she ceased spinning him.

"Dipper, watch out!" called Mabel.

Dipper saw Wax Richard Nixon and kicked him out the door, breaking his wax leg as he hobbled out. Wax Sherlock Holmes approached Dipper, holding Wax Stan's lifeless head. He placed on the horn of a rhino's head that was mounted on the wall.

"All right," he said, "Let's get this taken cared of." He removed a mounted sword that was right next to the rhino head on the wall, and deftly swiped the candle out of Dipper's grasp. It clattered to the floor, and cracked into pieces, rendering itself useless.

Holmes raised the sword to slay Dipper, but I yelled "Catch!" tossing Dipper the reheated fire poker. He caught it, and parried the sword before it could slice his forehead. Holmes and Dipper backed into the hallway as they fought, and then up the stairs to the attic room. Dipper swiped at Holmes but he saw the attack coming, and avoided it. Dipper was then backed into a corner, and Holmes held his blade, ready to strike.

"Once your family is out of the way," Holmes told him, "we'll rule the night once again." He raised his sword for a fatal down stroke. Dipper looked for an escape, and his eyes fell upon the red stained-glass window. Holmes ran up to Dipper and brought his sword down.

"Don't count on it!" replied Dipper, leaping between Holmes legs, somersaulting, then opening the window and running onto the roof. Holmes had his sword lodged into the wall, but pulled it free, calling after him, "Come back here, you brat!" He climbed out after him.

Outside, the sky was turning red, and the moon was a pale sickle smiling down on all the unfolding drama.

Dipper climbed up the slope of the roof, and further on until he was walking along the "Shack" sign. He balanced himself precariously, and turned to face Holmes, who had followed him up. The two of them crossed blade and poker under the sign lights. Holmes mistakenly hit the "S" in Shack, causing it to be dislodged and fall off again.

"You really think you can outwit me, boy?" asked Holmes with a tone of condescension. "I'm Sherlock _bleeding_ Holmes! Have you seen my magnifying glass? It's enormous!"

Dipper ignored the egomaniac, dropping the poker, leaped unto the "Mystery" sign above him, and crawled over onto the other side. He jumped off onto the opposite slope of the roof, but caused the roof tiles under him to loosen and slide down, along with him. He reached for the dormer of the Wax Museum room, clambered unto it, and hid behind the chimney, breathless.

He took several breathes, then peeked around the corner of the chimney. There wasn't a sign of the wax detective anywhere. Dipper sighed with relief... until he looked in front of him.

"Ha!"Holmes kicked him in the stomach across the dormer, and aimed his sword at Dipper's face. "Any last words?" He raised the blade above his head, poised to slay Dipper where he lay.

"Um..." Dipper glanced to the east, thinking of a good response. "You got any sunscreen?"

"Got any... what?" Holmes hands were dripping profusely, and he gasped in horror at the rising sun that was rapidly diminishing him. "No," he replied to Dipper.

"You know, letting me lead you outside," mentioned Dipper. "Probably not your sharpest decision."

"Outsmarted by a child in short pants? NOOOOOOOO!" he wailed as he melted helplessly in the morning sunlight. "Fiddlesticks! Humbugs! Its a total kerfuffle! What a hullabaloo." The puddle of his wax body dribbled down the roof.

"Case closed!" said Dipper, brushing dust from his hands. The dust got in his nose, and he let out another cute sneeze.

"HA HA HA!" laughed Sherlock Holmes. "You sneeze like a kitten. Those policemen were right, you're adorable. Adorableeeeeeee!" his half-melted head slid off the roof, and fell with a splat.

"Eh, ewww," commented Dipper. And that was the final end of Sherlock Holmes.

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Meanwhile, Mabel and I were trying to fend off the rest of the wicked wax monsters. Wax Robin Hood tried to nail me with an arrow, but I tossed a chair at him, and he crumbled into waxy bits. Mabel was fighting back now against Wax Queen Elizabeth II, trying to wrestle her captured hair from her white gloved hands. I grabbed one of Coolio's chopped legs, and, doing away with manners, whacked her crowned head off into the hungry fire. Mabel then grabbed her hair and pulled it and the monarch's arms off.

Shakespeare was trying to get his arms back on, but I picked up an ash shovel by the fireplace, and walked over to him, saying "I would challenge you to a battle of wits,"- and I knocked his arms away- "but I see you are 'unarmed.'"

"You wench!" he cried, charging at me. I promptly chopped his head off. "Sheesh, you don't need to lose your head."

Richard Nixon had managed to crawl his way back into the room, and ran at Mabel. I stopped him by slapping his flapping jowls with the shovel. He tripped into Wax Lizzie Borden, and Mabel then sent them rolling into the fire. Unexpectedly, Wax John Wilkes Booth made an appearance, holding a pistol in his left hand.

"Are all of you wax figures left-handed?" I asked.

"It comes with the territory," he replied. He pointed his gun at me, but Mabel sliced her candle across in his neck, and his head rolled off.

"Not much fun being assassinated, now is it, Booth?" I goaded.

Mabel screamed as Wax Thomas Edison swung Lizzie's ax at her. She ducked, and tried to melt him with her candle, but he brought the ax down and sliced it in half.

"Who's brilliant idea was it to give these wax monstrosities real weapons in the first place?" I asked, grabbing a nearby curtain, and throwing it over his head. Confused, he ran about the room, running into a wall, screaming "Who turned out the light bulbs? They're a genius idea! Genius, I tell you!"

"That's it!" With a slam on the keyboard of the organ, Wax Anton Lavey got up, and stalked across the room towards me, grabbing the discarded ax as he did. "You've played with us long enough, girls. Now it's my turn."

Then Wax Edison pulled the curtain off, and threw it aside, with a look of renewed anger in his pupiless eyes.

I had to make a life or death decision, and I didn't like my options. _God be with me. _

"Mabel, I'll take the Satanist, you take the inventor," I said, grabbing a pair of log tongs. With it and the ash shovel in both hands, I stuck them into the fire to heat.

"You actually think you have a chance against a cursed being?" he laughed.

"I don't think; I _believe,_" I said, trying to put up a brave front, even though my mind and heart were screaming _Run!Run!Run!_ I pulled the metal tools red-hot from the flames.

"So you say," he answered me. He rolled his eyes back in his head and charged at me. He raised the ax and swung at me. I barely missed leaping out of the way. I tried smack him with the shovel, but he parried it with the ax handle. Mabel meanwhile was being attacked not only by Wax Edison but also by various sliced limbs. One grabbed her hair, another grabbed her ankle, she punched one that flew into her face, and stepped on another one.

Then Lavey had me up against a wall. "Pray time's over, Christian. It's too bad that you can't defend yourself,"- he raised the ax above his head- "since you can only use"-he swung down- "you're right ha-!" He gasped in shock.

Barely a few inches from my blonde forehead, I held the ax at bay with the tongs in my left hand, and had managed to stab the hot shovel into his melting chest with my right hand. I braced my back against the wall, holding him back with all the strength I had.

"Impossible!" he cried.

Mabel was confused. "Isannah? But I thought you were right handed!" Mabel saw Robin Hood's head hopping towards her, and she kicked him away.

"You're _ambidextrous_?" exclaimed Lavey.

"And I'm gonna kick your wax!" I used the tongs to wrench the deadly weapon from his hands, and threw it across the room. "Don't you know how I defend myself? The Lord is my strength and my defense. He is my salvation!" There was no way that I could be that fast without some divine intervention.

"Oh, how touching." Lavey pulled the shovel from my hands, and removed it from his torso. I glanced over at Mabel to see how she was holding out, when Wax Thomas Edison was trying to grab her head. I grabbed Wax Shakespeare's head, and rolled it like a bowling ball at his feet. The American inventing wax imposter fell over like a tall pin.

"Isannah! Look out!" cried Mabel.

I turned just in time to catch Lavey's attack with the tongs and prevent him from hitting my head. He grabbed some wet wax lying on the floor and refilled it into the gap in his belly. He was rebuilding his defenses.

"You Christians all make me sick," said Lavey, swinging the shovel. I tried to parry and lunge with the tongs, but they were more awkward of a weapon than I had thought.

"With all your self delusions of some higher power protecting you, and your so-called ancient 'words of wisdom.' You listen to the blather of dead men, and believe in superstitions. People like you are mad!" He aimed for my neck but I ducked. I threw a hopping arm at him, but he batted it away like a baseball.

"Christians are completely reasonable," I replied, swinging the tongs at his legs, but barely scrapping his knees. "We use historical findings and accounts outside of the Bible to back up Scripture, and discovered the law of gravity and other big discoveries."

I found myself being pushed out into the corridor as we argued and swash-buckled. "People like you are all about humanism, right?" I asked him. "Well, when the humanist movement started way back in the Renaissance, guess who started it? The Christians!" I aimed the tongs at his face for emphasis, and smeared his nose.

He waved the shovel at me, and I lost my balance and fell the last two steps down. I scrambled out of the way as Lavey leaped down to crush me. As I backed up into the kitchen, he tried a new tactic.

"You're nothing but thieving hypocrites, trying to coerce finances and support. Oh, how you scoff at us 'sinners.' You claim to be holier than us, better than us, but you're no different than the rest of humankind. And that's what I hate about you _the most_!"

He threw away the shovel and grabbed a kitchen knife, and threw it at me. I narrowly avoided it, and it got lodged in the wall. With a pounding pulse, I pulled it out, and prepared to defend myself, knife and tongs.

"Christians are no different from the rest of mankind," I agreed. I grabbed a pot lid for a shield as he took up a few more knives, and we circled the kitchen table. I kept praying for a solution as I spoke. "We know we're sinners, and know we can't get into heaven by our acts or attitudes."

"Do you?" he asked snidely. "Do you _really_?"

"Being a Christian is not all about hypocrisy!" I backed into the stove, and set the tongs mistakenly into turning on the front burner behind me.

"And how would _you_ know that?" He stepped towards me, throwing a knife into the floor between us with each point he made. "You didn't keep the Sabbath, disrespected the authorities, and are murdering creatures that are practically human. Face it, you have laws that you can't keep, and don't even bother to. Sherlock agrees every bit with me. He quoted the portion of the Bible that reveals King David, a man after God's own heart, as an adulterer." He held a steak knife at my face, and had me leaning back over the stove. I felt the burner's heat on the nape of my neck, and realized that my hair could catch fire.

I shuddered, but I couldn't deny his words. I had indeed sinned and broken rules. He didn't even mention allowing under-aged children into a brawling restaurant with fake ID's.

"You're right," I resigned. "I am indeed a hypocrite. I've sinned against God and against man. Even people who we praise about in our Bible are nothing more than sinners."

He smirked devilishly.

"But we remember those stories to remind ourselves of that truth. If God based His love for us solely on keeping rules, there would be no reason for Him to send His Son Jesus Christ for our eternal salvation, to take away our sins and hypocrisies."

He practically hissed at my next words. "Rules and rituals don't take away our sins; Jesus' sacrifice can only do that."

"Your God is dead!" he shouted.

"He came back from the grave, after freeing sinners from hell. The place that you seem so desperate to get to, in all your spitefulness toward God. Ironic, for a wax figure." I could smell my hair singeing from the burner.

"Your faith is weak; you're _nothing_ but weak. Our master will rise in power and conquer over you pathetic, _meek_ Christians."

"Jesus said, 'Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.' And He promised us that Satan wouldn't rule the world forever, but be thrown into the Lake of Fire. Power-hungry, hateful monsters like your master and Holmes will never have a hold on this world!" I swung my burning ponytail into his face. He yelped, backpedaling into the fridge, holding his melting eye. "My face!"

"Put that in your pipes and _smoke it_!" I licked my finger and thumb, and pressed them over a tiny flame that blossomed on one of my locks.

In a rage of frustration, Lavey leaped at me, a knife poised for my throat. But I ducked, somersaulted at his legs, and he tripped over me, and his face landed directly onto the burner. He screamed, and pulled himself away, but his hands and face were melting into liquid wax. From the open window behind the table, I could see the morning sun rising from the east. As beams of sunlight burned in, he melted, but his voice croaked out a last reply.

"This isn't the end, Isannah Elizabeth Tannenbaum. Worse things are coming to you. Horrors and terrors unimaginable. We'll be back! We won't be silenceeeeeed!" He melted into a bubbling black puddle.

_Thank God that's over._ I went into the broom closet, and fetched a mop and a bucket.

ZKRP WKHQ VKDOO L IHDU?

Mabel was inside the Wax Museum room, tossing the remains of Wax William Shakespeare into the fireplace turned Nebuchadnezzar's furnace. Wax Shakespeare was swearing his return in rhyme.

"Though our group be left in twain, Man of wax shall rise again!"

Mabel picked up his head last of all. "Do you know any limericks?" she asked him.

"Uh...There once was a _du-ude_ from Kentucky-"

"Nope." She threw him in the flames, and he briefly screamed before being instantly melted. Dipper entered the room, unharmed.

"Dipper! You're okay!" cried Mabel. "You solved the mystery after all." Dipper pulled up a chair to stand on as he removed Wax Stan's head from the mounted rhino's horn.

"I couldn't have done it without the help of my sidekick," he replied.

"No offense Dipper, but you're the sidekick," replied Mabel.

"What? Says who? Are-are people saying that? Have you heard that?"

I walked into the room, tired but grimly triumphant.

"Isannah!" cried Mabel. "You overcame your fear of wax."

"I was just afraid of Anton Lavey," I said, holding up a bucket of his waxy remains. "He's a man of the devil."

"You should burn that," said Dipper.

"Agreed." I threw the contents into the fire.

"Hot Belgian waffles!" Just then, Stan, walked into the war-torn, wax-spotted room. "What happened to my parlor?!" A curtain rod from the window fell down after his exclamation.

"Your wax figures turned out to be evil so we fought them to the death," replied Mabel.

"I decapitated Larry King," mentioned Dipper, as if that would make matters better.

"I mopped the kitchen floor," I added, as if _that_ would make matters better.

"Heh ha!" laughed Stan. "You kids and your imaginations."

I didn't even bother to argue that our story was true. If he wasn't mad that we destroyed one of his attractions, I decided that was a good deal. Besides, we had been up all night, I was coming down off an adrenaline rush, I had a class in a few hours; I didn't feel like going into further explaination.

"On the bright side though," said Dipper, "look at what we found." He tossed Stan his wax twin's head.

"My head! Ha ha! I missed this guy. You done good, kids." Stan smiled appreciatively. "All right, line up for some affectionate noogying."

The twins weren't jumping up and down with excitement on this idea.

"I'm not so sure about that. Is there any other alternative-"

"Oh, um... ah..."

But there great-uncle got them head-locked into a hug, and was already giving Dipper a noogy. The three of them chuckled. "Noogy, noogy, noogy." I started laughing at them myself. Stan glanced at me, gave me a playful shove that knocked me over, and I laughed even more.

But then a police siren broke the short moment of affection. Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland were back.

"Solve the case yet, boy?" called Blubs. "I'm so confident you're gonna say no, that I'm gonna take a long, slow, sip from my cup of coffee." He took the coffee cup to his lips, and started to take a long swig, and his deputy followed suit.

"Actually, the answer is 'yes,'" Dipper said, holding up Wax Stan's missing head.

Blubs appeared to be choking, and spat his coffee all over Durland's face. Durland screamed, then spewed coffee back in Blubs face. Blubs screamed again, and spewed coffee back at him. Durland screamed, and spewed coffee back again.

"It burns! It burns!" Blubs cried.

"My EYES!" screamed Durland. Both screaming in scalded pain, they hit the gas and sped out of the parking lot. We laughed at them as they beat a hasty retreat.

"They got 'scalded!'" said Stan. We heard their vehicle screech and crash.

"So, did you get rid of _all_ the wax figures?" Dipper asked us.

"I am ninety-nine percent sure that we did," she replied.

"Good enough for me," he said.

"And me," I said. "If you need me, I'll be taking a nap and having nightmares before I have to get to class."

But watching from inside an air duct, the decapitated head of Larry King laughed. Until he heard a squeaking sound. "Huh?" There was a rat in the vent with him.

"So, you're a rat," he said. "Tell me about that." The rat promptly tore of his wax ear, and ran down the vent with it.

"Hey! Get back here!" he hopped on his neck after the vermin. "I'm hopping. I'm hopping after a rat that stole my ear."

As I turned to head out of the room, Stan asked, "Sheesh, Iz, what happened to your hair?"

I looked at the end of my ponytail, which lost about two inches to the kitchen stove. "I burned it," I shrugged, then headed to my bedroom for a much needed rest.

I couldn't help but wonder to myself about Lavey's dying vow. _What if what he said was true? But what could be worse than what we've gone through?_ Exhausted, I collapsed on my bed, never truly suspecting for a moment that the Satanic wax monster was more than terrifyingly accurate. _Worse things are coming to you_.

PXFK ZRUVH

Mabel stood in front of mirror in the living room downstairs, trying to decide which sweater to wear for the day. "Hmmm. Hey Dipper," she asked, "what do you think is better? Sequins, or llama hair?"

Wax Larry King's head appeared in an air duct over the comfy chair in the living room. "The llama hair," he said. "Llamas are nature's greatest warriors." He hopped away.

"Thanks, Dipper!" she ran upstairs to put it on.

Dipper meanwhile was reading a Sherlock Holmes mystery, but he looked up and glanced uneasily around the room. He could have sworn that...

But he decided to go back to his reading.

_"Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity." -1 Timothy 4:12_


	12. Ch11:THTRTM: Lil' Gideon

Chapter 12: The Hand That Rocks The Mabel: Li'l Gideon

Stan was leading a group of unsuspecting customers around the Mystery Shack. It was late in the day, and he had them outside for a last scam to make money.

"For tonight's final illusion," concluded Stan, "we have the incredible 'Sack of Mystery.'" He pulled out a sack with a question mark sown into it. "When you put your money in, it mysteriously disappears."

The customers obliged with Stan's simple scamming trick.

"Of course!"

"That makes perfect sense."

"What a nice man."

"Totally worth the drive."

Meanwhile, Dipper, Mabel, and Soos were in the living room, all huddled on the armchair, watching a TV show. I was sitting in the dining area of the room, huddled over a book, trying to catch up on some homework, while also trying to enjoy the show with Soos and the twins. I've never had the best study habits. I was also still recovering from the previous day's battle with the wax figures, and was now battling off fatigue.

"The tiger was badly injured in the explosion," said a surgeon voice over on TV. "But we repaired him, with a fist." The screen showed the tiger with an muscled arm clenched into a fist. Then a title appeared with the words "Tiger Fist!"

They living room audience cheered for the tiger. The fist punched the tiger in its face. The title screen appeared again with an announcer saying "'Tiger Fist!' will return after these messages." A commercial with a pair of hands throwing doves into the air appeared on screen.

"Hey, look!" said Soos. "It's that commercial I was telling you guys about." Curiousity got the best of me (that, and the science textbook was mind-numbingly boring). I paused in my reading, got up form the table, stood by Soos to watch.

The next scene was a shot of some majestic mountain view ( I was gonna guess the Rockies)."Are you completely miserable?" asked a Southern voice. The commercial then played a scene of a man weeping in his bedroom. "YE-ES!" cried the man.

"Then you need to meet..."

"_Gideon_," whispered another voice. A silhouette with a question mark inside it and the name "Gideon" popped on screen.

"Gideon?" asked Dipper.

"What makes him so special?" asked Mabel.

"He's a psychic," said the Southern announcer.

"Ah-roo?" asked Mabel. She sounded like Scooby-Doo.

"Don't waste your time with other so-called 'men of mystery,'" warned the voice. A scene of Stan walking out of the outside john and shaking a trail of toilet paper from his slipper was played. "Fraud" was stamped over him.

"Learn about tomorrow _tonight_, at Gideon's 'Tent of Telepathy.'" A bunch of disclaimers scrolled up the screen, and then there was some message to someone named Carla about always loving her but never having the guts to say it.

"_Wow_," said Mabel. "I'm getting all curious-y inside."

"Well, don't get too curious-y," said Stan as he crossed the threshold, flipping up his eye patch. "Ever since that _monster_ Gideon rolled into town, I've had nothin' but trouble." He removed his coat, and place it on a coat rack made from antlers.

He flashbacked to a moment when he was previously trying to find a parking space in a parking lot. He found one, but then Gideon's RV sped in, and a crowd of adoring fans clustered around it. "Gideon!" muttered Stan.

"Well, is he really psychic?" asked Mabel in the present time.

"I think we should go and find out," said Dipper, looking up at me and Soos.

"Yeah," I said, surprised that I wanted to step into a fortune telling house, one of the forbidden places my parents told me to never consider dealing with. I knew that psychics couldn't be trusted with the truth, but all the same, I was curious-y too. I tried to defend my agreement to myself with a plausible excuse. "Considering that they explicitly trashed Stan's reputation, I think we should learn a bit about this guy and see if he's legit. You know, kind of like 'know your friends, but know your enemies better.'"

"Never!" declared Stan, undoing his western style tie, and sticking it in his coat pocket. "You're forbidden from patronizing the competition! No one who lives under my roof is allowed under that Gideon's roof."

"Do tenants have roofs?" Dipper asked me.

"I think we just found our loop-hole," I replied with a smile.

"Yeah," agreed Mabel. "Literally." She held up a string with a loop tied in it. "Wha-amp, wha-amp!"

_Boy, would Mom scream at me if she knew that I was being this blatantly disobedient,_ I thought.

"So come down soon, folks," called the same announcer from the Gideon commercial. "Gideon is expectin' ya."

-_cue Gravity Falls theme song_-

That evening, many curious-y patrons came by to the Tent of Telepathy to see what marvel Gideon might be. Standing at the entry way was Bud Gleeful, the man who was the announcer promoting Gideon.

"Step right up there, folks," he encouraged. "Put your money in Gideon's 'Psychic Sack.'" He held a sack with Gideon's emblem, a five-pointed right-side up pentagram with an eye in the center. Five pointed star with an eye. That was the first red flag for me. For once, I was beginning to agree with Stan. People handed money into it with the same complacency they had with Stan as they stepped inside.

The tent was wide enough to hold several rows of pews and a curtained stage. There were speakers and a piano sitting upstage right, and the curtains were a deep blue that contrasted with the white tent canvas overhead. The whole place had an American tent revival meeting vibe to it. This was not at all what I expected from a psychic, who I was told from many a Christian source would be divining lies and blasphemies from demons. If they played a gospel hymn like "Victory In Jesus," I would be sold.

I was seated by Mabel, who was already eating popcorn. On her right side sat Dipper, and on his right side was Soos, eating a taco.

"Whoa, this is like a bizzaro version of the Mystery Shack," noticed Dipper. "They even have their own Soos." He pointed to a handy man carrying tools, who had the same face and build as Soos did. Soos glared at him as he chewed.

I searched the crowd frantically. _Maybe this was a bad idea after all._"If any of you see my doppelganger, say 'Sannah-I-a, Annenbaum-Ta, and I'm out of here." It wouldn't surprise if there were doppelgangers out here.

I was feeling so conflicted with everything I was seeing. How would I know if this was a good idea or a horrible one?

"It's starting," whispered Mabel excitedly. "It's _starting!_"

_I guess I'll find out now_, I thought.

The lights dimmed out, and music that signaled a big entrance played. Spotlights danced over the audience's heads and played along the stage and it's closed curtains.

"Let's see what this 'monster' looks like," said Dipper to himself.

A spotlight settled into the center of the stage, where the blue curtains would separate, and a dark imposing silhouette behind the curtain stepped forward to center stage. But when the curtains parted, the silhouette turned out to be a cute, freckly nine-year-old boy with a blonde pompadour wearing a cape. He wore an American flag pin on his coat, as if to make him appear patriotic.

"Hello, America!" said the child with a Southern accent. "My name is Lil' Gideon." He clapped twice, and doves flew from his insanely huge pompadour. The audience cheered, and Soos sat awed at the magic trick.

"_That's_ Stan's mortal enemy?" asked Dipper dubiously.

"But... he's so widdle," said Mabel.

"And his hair's so huge," I remarked. _Wonder how much hair gel was suffocating those birds._

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is such a _gift_ to have you here tonight!" said Gideon onstage. "Such a _gift!_ I have a vision. I predict you'll soon all say 'Awww-oh.'" He turned his face from the audience, and then turned back, his smile rosy and his eyes sweet like a puppy.

"Awww," said the audience.

"It came true," whispered Mabel.

"What? I'm not impressed," said Dipper.

"Me neither. This guy is a total charlatan," I said in agreement

"You're impressed," said Mabel, not believing us.

"Hit it, Dad!" Gideon pointed to his father, Bud Gleeful, who struck up a gospel tune on a piano. Gideon removed his cape, and tossed it to a woman in the front row, who was overjoyed at receiving it, but then had to fight off other women who wanted an object worn by the fake child prodigy. Gideon then began to sing.

"Oh, I can see what others can't see,

"It ain't some sideshow trick, its innate ability.

"Where others are blind, I am futurely inclined,

"And you too could see, if you was widdle ol me!" He giggled to himself.

"Come on everybody!" he called to the audience, grabbing his bolo tie. "Rise up!" Everyone rose their feet at his command. "I want ya'll to keep it going!"

We rose to our feet, whether we intended to or not.

Dipper was more than just surprised. "Wha-? How did he-"

"Keep it going!" commanded Gideon, and the audience started to clap as he sang another line. I frowned, not enjoying his mockery of good gospel music one bit.

"You wish your son would call you mooore," he sang, pointing to an elderly woman sitting in the front row.

"I'm leaving everything to my cats!" she exclaimed, waving a fist in the air. One of the cats in her lap yowled.

"I sense that you've been here befo-o-ore," he said to another audience member wearing and holding Lil' Gideon merchandise.

"Oh, what gave it away?" asked Sheriff Blubs bashfully.

Dipper became more and more skeptical. "Come on," he rolled his eyes.

Gideon step down the aisle by us and spoke to Mabel.

"I'll read your mind if I'm able," he said, winking at her. The audience around us continued to clap to the music.

"Something tells me you're named 'Mabel.'" He stepped away to get back onstage. "How'd he do that?" she asked, stepping closer into our row so that I could see her name sown clearly onto her sweater. I rolled my eyes.

"So welcome all ye,

"To the Tent of Telepathy,

"And thanks for visitin,' widdle ol me!"

A neon sign with his name was lowered above the sage, and blue flame effects sprouted on stage as the song ended in a finale.

Gideon was tired from singing and dancing. "Oh my goodness," he panted.

The audience cheered and cheered for him, and Soos and Mabel joined them.

Gideon pulled a water bottle from his coat, and sipped from it. "Thank you!" he called. "You people are the real miracles!"

"Whoooo! Yea-heh-hah!" cheered Mabel.

The audience exited the tent, happy and good-natured as if they had attended a revival meeting.

"Man," said Dipper. "That kid's an even bigger fraud than Stan. No wonder our uncle's jealous."

"Aw, come on," said Mabel. "His dance moves were adorable! And did you see his hair? It was like 'Whoosh!'"

"You're too easily impressed," said Dipper.

"Yeah, yeah!" She poked him, and the two laughed and prodded each other.

I came out talking with Soos. "I'll give it to him, the kid's smart selling his smile and all that, " I mentioned to him. "But I feel like this was all a sort of mocking farce against evangelical Christians."

"But why are you taking it so personally?" asked Soos as we joined up with the Pines twins.

"Well, my dad loved gospel music, and played it everyday in church," I elaborated. "My mom used to sing songs like that on Sunday morning. Everyone in my church back home loved it. My parents thought that the best cure for the Christian who was unhappy or unsatisfied in his relationship with God was a good old Southern-style revival meeting. Now, I'm trying hard to not feel like he ruined it for me."

"Oh, don't be mad, Isannah," said ever cheery Mabel. "Just think of how revival-ish he was trying to be and laugh about it." She laughed a little herself.

"You're right," I said. "I shouldn't let this get me down. I mean, it _was_ just a tourist trap, not an actual revival meeting."

"We should be getting back to our own tourist trap," mentioned Dipper as the twilight began to fade.

"Yeah," agreed Soos. "Let's get back to the Mystery Shack. I'm up for more tacos."

"And I've got a chapter of history to read," I remembered.

As the foursome walked away, Gideon stepped out from his hiding place behind the tent flap where they had spoken. He watched them intently as they headed home.

_This wasn't so bad,_ I thought. _I don't know why I was worried. Nothing's up with that kid._

Boy, if I could only see what the future had in store.

The next morning, I was packing my books for a couple of classes I would have until mid-afternoon. I was in the dining room with Dipper, who was sipping a glass of water. I felt fatigued. Spending the evening out to go to a tourist trap with so much homework to do for the next day wasn't the idea I've ever had.

To interrupt my mantra of "Books, wallet, phone," Mabel ran in, saying in a constrained voice, "Check it out, guys! I successfully bezazzled my face!" She wore a huge assortment of plastic bedazzle gems all over her visage, even on her eyelids. "Blink," she blinked painfully. "Ow."

"Is that permanent?" asked Dipper. This was ridiculous, but this was Mabel.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," I added, a little concerned.

"I'm unappreciated in my time," replied Mabel, feeling insulted. The doorbell rang.

"Somebody answer that door!" called a groggy Stan.

"I'll get it!" replied Mabel, rubbing the gems off her face as she went. When she opened the front door, she expected someone tall, but seeing no one, trailed her eyes down to a blue suit and a blonde pompadour.

"Howdy," said Gideon Gleeful.

"It's widdle ol' you!" said Mabel, thrilled to see the cute fake psychic.

"Heh, heh, yeah," replied Gideon awkwardly. "My song's quite catchy. I know we haven't formally met, but after yesterday's performance, I just couldn't get cha laugh out of my head."

"You mean this one? Ah, ha, haha, ha, huh."

"Oooh, what a delight! When I saw you in the audience, I said to myself, 'Now _there's_ a kindred spirit. Someone who appreciates _sparkly_ things in life.'"

"That's totally me!" exclaimed Mabel. She laughed, but then started coughing up more bedazzle gems. They landed and stuck to the collar of Gideon's coat. "Enchanting," he whispered. "_Utterly_ enchanting."

"Who's at the door?" hollered Stan from inside.

"No one, Grunkle Stan!" called back Mabel.

"I appreciate your discretion," whispered Gideon. "Now Stan's no fan of mine. I don't know how a lemon so sour could be related to a peach so sweet."

"_Gideon_!" Mabel giggled with false bashfulness.

"What do you say we step away from here, and chat a bit more?" he asked her in secretive tone. "Perhaps in my dressin' room."

Mabel inhaled excitedly, barely believing her good fortune. "Make-overs! Ho-hoo!" she poked him hard in his widdle tummy. He chuckled awkwardly, then said "Ow."

As the door to the closet in Gideon's dressing room opened, Mabel gasped in delight. The place had the most adorable, trendy outfits waiting to be worn!

"Do you see somethin' you like?" asked Gideon. "'Cause I do," he said, glancing up at Mabel's priceless face.

She laughed and replied with confused happiness, "What?"

Later that afternoon, Mabel and Gideon waved good-bye in front of the Mystery Shack, and Mabel walked inside. She and Gideon had done a bizarre make-over on her, curling her bangs and the tips of her hair, and applying a pink bow for hair, purple eyeshadow, extra blush, bright lipstick, and long pink fingernails.

Dipper was slouched on the armchair in the living room, enjoying a peaceful hour of reading the journal, while I had just gotten home, and was throwing everything from college off my back, and getting myself a bag of chips from the kitchen. Neither of us expecting Mabel to come in and surprise us.

"Hey, Dipper," she said, walking up behind him. "What's going ooooon?" She leaned over his head, and dangled her long fingernails over his face.

I walked into the room, and screamed in fright. "Mabel?! What happened to you?"

"Who-oa!" he said slapping her hands away. "Where've you been?" He stood up to talk to her. "And what's going on with those fingernails? You look like a ... wolverine."

"I know, right?" She made a "roar" sound and slashed her nails like animal claws. "I was hanging out with my new pal, Gideon. He is one dapper little man."

"Mabel," addressed her brother. "I don't trust anyone whose hair is bigger than their head."

I didn't really care about Gideon being her friend. He made her happy, and so long as the two of them weren't doing anything illegal or getting into some kind of trouble that could get _me_ into some kind of trouble. Lack of sleep and lots of homework can really deteriorate your morale.

"Oh, leave him alone," Mabel replied in a defensive tone. "You never want to do girly stuff with me. You and Soos get to do boy stuff all the time."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Hey, dude," called Soos as he walked into the living room carrying a package of hotdogs. "You ready to blow up these hotdogs in the microwave one by one?"

"_AM_ I?" He and Soos ran into the kitchen, and popped the hotdogs in the microwave. They laughed and cheered as hotdogs popped like corn. "One at a time! One at a time!"

"My point _exactly_," said Mabel.

"Brothers," I muttered.

"Why can't you and I do something girly together?" Mabel asked me.

"I'm sorry, Mabel," I replied apologetically. "But I have a school project due this week, and tomorrow I have an enormous test to study for."

"Oh, you always have a dumb test or a dumb project to work on," she complained.

"Believe me, Mabel, I would much rather braid hair and do make-overs with you than write up labs and study the history of English battles. But since I need to work on getting a career, I need to get through at least three in half more years of schooling, and then have all the time in the world."

"Awww," she said disappointed. She went upstairs to undo the 'make-over,' leaving me alone with my guilt and homework.

Later before evening, Mabel and Gideon were sitting together on the roof of Gideon's family's factory by the edge of a cliff. It was a quiet place for the two new friends to converse.

"Whoa! The view from your family's factory is _nuts_!" said Mabel as she gazed at the town "Good thing we both brought our..."

"Opera glasses!" they said simultaneously, producing the mentioned item. They peered through their own pair at each other, laughed like a couple of old pals, then used them to gaze out over the downtown city hall area.

"Mabel," said Gideon. "When I'm up here, lookin' down on all them little ol' people, I feel like I'm king of all I survey." His voice had dropped down to a sinister whisper. But he returned to his natural tone."I guess that makes you my queen."

"Wha-aat?" replied Mabel in a nervous laughing sort of voice. "You're being so nice to me right now. Quit it!" She shoved him playfully.

"I can't quit it," Gideon replied. "I am speakin' from the heart."

"From the where now?"

"Mabel, I've never felt this close with anyone. So, _so close_." He reached a hand for her hair and stroked it, inhaling in creepy sort of way.

"Look, Gideon," she said, taking his hand away. "I, um-" But she had to stop his hand in mid-reach for her hair. "I like you a lot, but let's just be friends."

"At least just give me a chance," he said, undeterred. "Mabel, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?"

"A play date?" she asked hopefully. He shook his head no.

"A shopping date?" Still no.

"It'll just be one little ol' date," he promised, taking hold of his tie. "I swear my lucky bolo tie."

"Ummm," replied Mabel uncertainly. She really wasn't interested in that kind of thing with him. He was the cute fall back for girly activities, not an age-appropriate eligible bachelor. But he gave her his "Awww" face, and she unwillingly conceded.

"Okay, then" she replied. "I guess."

"Mabel Pines, you have made me the happiest boy in the world!" he cried, hugging her. They held each other, Mabel already questioning her decision.

"Are you sniffing my hair?" she asked him.


	13. Ch12:THTRTM: Family Matters

Chapter 13: The Hand That Rocks The Mabel: Family Matters

After studying and dedicating most of the day to school work, I headed for the stairs to see what I had missed over the last couple of hours, and found Mabel home and heading up the stairs. I waited for her on the landing.

"Hey, Pinecone. Did you and Gideon have a good time?" I asked her.

"Why would you care?" she asked. "You don't have any time for me anyway."

I was surprised by how bitter she sounded. This wasn't Mabel, and certainly not Mabel to me.

"But I just had a lot of work to catch up on, Mabel," I tried to explain again. "You know this."

"I get _that_," she replied, "but it's not just school work. I always want to hang out with you, but you'd rather read a book or something than do stuff with me. You act like you don't have time for me anymore."

I was about to respond, but then I thought about what she said. Was it true? I flashbacked to a time last week when she wanted me to braid her hair into a fishtail to match her goldfish sweater, but I was too busy finishing up a chapter in _Jane Ere_. A few days later she wanted to go downtown and get her nails done at the salon, but I wanted to watch my favorite TV show. All three hours of it. Then she wanted to give me a make-over with her eyes closed, and I rushed into the Mystery Shack with some made-up chore to get out of it.

"You're right," I muttered reflectively, more to myself than to her. I felt a knife of guilt stab me in the pit of my stomach.

"That's why I'm glad that I have Gideon," she told me. "He loves doing girly stuff with me, knows how to style my hair, and actually _wants_ to be with me." With that she turned, and walked away.

I reached out to say something, to explain to her, but I couldn't. I didn't understand what I was trying to tell her. I tried explaining my thoughts to God in my journal.

_… I feel bad about that whole thing, God. I do love Mabel. She's one of the happiest, funniest people I've ever known. I love having fun with her, but I've realized that I cop out on her all the time. But why? The truth is complicated, but I guess I can try to explain it._

_ I would blame it on my touch of autism, but feel like that's just an excuse, and a lame one since it hasn't stopped me from being a good friend to others. In a sense, I think I'm a little afraid of Mabel. But not Mabel herself. I think I'm afraid of the idea of being her sister, of hanging out with her and getting to be close friends. I've never had a sister before, so this is still new territory for me. I don't even know if I'm afraid of exactly. It's more like I want to be her friend, but I don't. What does that mean?_

_ Well, I haven't had any close friends in years. Was there something I did? Yes! There was! I moved. My family moved a couple of times, but when we got to New Jersey, we couldn't find a home or a school that we could stay in for longer than a year. My parents were always struggling with the rent, or searched for a Christian school with a healthier social environment. My brothers and I tried to make friends, but it was hard to stick with our fresh relationships since we moved so much and left them behind. _

_ In the end, it was just easier for me to not make friends and to just go about my business in school, get good grades, and go home. That was my last college semester. It was loneliest time of my life. _

_ I guess over the months I haven't killed that habit. I've tried to grow out of that mindset, but I've still been treating other people the same way. I accept them to a point, or don't try to get close at all. Or even come off as rejecting them. _

_ And now I'm rejecting Mabel. _

I had to make amends somehow. But tomorrow, I had classes in the morning until noon, and too much time to come up with a good apology.

YBTXOB

After classes the next day, Stan had me work a couple of extra hours in Mystery Shack and cleaning the destroyed Wax Museum Room to make up from the time I had spent studying yesterday. I didn't really care too much, since it was a slow work day for the Shack. I assumed that I would get my share of work done, and then find the chance to talk to Mabel. But apparently, no one was around to work at the time, because there were plenty of things left to be done.

The twins were playing a video game in the living room that they found, and Mabel was talking about her "date" with Gideon.

"It's not a 'date' date," Mabel clarified. "It's just -you know- I didn't want to hurt his feelings. And so I figured I'd throw him a bone."

"Mabel, guys don't work that way," replied Dipper. "He's gonna fall in love with you."

"Pffff! Yeah, right," she scoffed. "I'm not _that_ lovable." An explosion sounded on the game, and Mabel cheered, "Kaboom! Yes!" as she won and defeated Dipper.

"OK, we agree on something here," her brother said, miffed about losing. The doorbell rang, and Mabel went to answer it. A horse pushed his head into the entryway, and Mabel screamed and backed away. Seated on the saddle was Li'l Gideon, wearing a ten gallon hat.

"A night of enchantment awaits, my lady," he said, reaching his out as an invitation to join him.

"Oh boy," said Mabel regretfully.

OLPBP XOB OBA

Mabel and Gideon's date at a fancy sea-themed restaurant, with well-dressed waiters and a running fountain in the dining area. Even though the two kids sat in their own private booth, many restaurant patrons were watching them and whispering to each other.

"I can't believe they let us bring a horse in here," commented Mabel to Gideon.

"Well, people have a hard time sayin' no to me," he said, pompously resting his feet on the table.

Their waiter stopped at their table with more water. "Ah, Monsieur Gideon," he said. "Ze feet on ze table. An excellent choice!"

"Jean-Luc," addressed Gideon. "What did we discuss about eye contact?"

"Yes, yes," replied the waiter. "Very good." He walked backwards to avoid looking at Gideon.

"I've never seen so many forks," said Mabel, gesturing to her silverware. "And water with bubbles in it?" She gasped slightly. "Oo la la. Oui, oui."

"Oh," said Gideon in a pleased tone. "Parlez-vous francais?"

Mabel had a smile that turned confused.. "I have no idea what you're saying."

GRPQ YBCLOB QEBV YILLJ

Meanwhile, our slow day at the Shack had gotten slower. Dipper stared at ceiling, probably counting the grains in the woodwork, while Soos read from a magazine, and Wendy texted a friend. I was so deep in thought about my history terms for my test that I was sweeping the same dust pile all over the room, without thinking to throw it away. But eventually, I had to pause because one thing in my mind kept nagging me: Mabel and Gideon. I was still wondering how much she hated me, but I was also wondering about how much she liked Gideon. The last boyfriend she had turned into a disaster. How were we to know that Gideon wasn't in some way deranged or dangerous? Three words rang through my head: _Trust no one._

"So guys," I asked no one in particular. "Do any of you know anything about Gideon? Like about his family or something? I mean he does seem to be well known around here." This was a tiny town, and he was a celebrity. Someone had to know something about him.

"Well," said Soos, looking up from his magazine. "I know that his dad, Bud Gleeful, has been a car salesman for years. Real nice and, well, gleeful."

"I guess scamming people runs in the family," I remarked.

"Yeah, but his mom's this frightened old woman who hides in the house all day," added Wendy, pausing from her texting briefly to address me. "You almost wonder if she's afraid of her own son."

Another red flag. Poor parental upbringing. Probably little to no discipline or self-control. Not a good thing for Mabel.

_I don't know if I feel comfortable about this kid,_ I thought, finally sweeping the dust into a trash bin. "Maybe we should speak to Mabel about this when she comes home later." _Unless she finds out on her own._

"Hey, hey!" called Stan, walking into the room in his underwear. "What the jeckle is Mabel doin' in the paper next to that greasy pick-pocket Gideon?" He showed us the front headline of today's issue _Gravity Falls Gossiper, _which featured a photo of Gideon and Mabel holding hands and walking down a sidewalk with the caption "Lil Gideon's Li'l Girlfriend?" under it.

"Oh yeah, it's like a big deal," said Wendy as she texted. "Everyone is talking about Gideon and Mabel's big date tonight."

"_What_?" cried Stan. "That little shyster is dating my great-niece?!" He must have thought that it was bad enough we were paying money and attention to the little fraud.

"I wonder what the new name will be for the power couple," thought Soos, looking up from his magazine that featured Gideon and Mabel together. "Mab-ideon? Gid-eable?" Then he gasped as he thought of the perfect name combo. "Gid-bel-eon!"

Stan crumpled the paper and discarded it on the floor."Mabel doesn't know what's good for her!You two should have stopped this before it began!" he yelled at me and Dipper. He stomped off to put on his suit. I felt stabbed again in the stomach with guilt about putting my schoolwork and pastimes before my temporary adoptive family. At the same time, I tried not too feel _too_ pleased that Stan was finally getting angry about something that was potentially bad for his family. I knew he had a sort of affection for the kids, but I felt that I need to see more of it sometimes.

"I didn't know!" defended Dipper. "I didn't hear about it, and plus- I told her not to!"

"Yeah, well it ends tonight," said Stan, his eight ball cane in hand as he opened the door of the Gift Shop. "I'm goin' right down to that skunk's house. This is gonna stop right now!"

With that, he walked out, slamming the gift shop door shut.

"Dude," said Soos. "Wouldn't it be funny if that was a closet and he had to come back out again and walk out the real door?" To test his theory, we opened the door himself. "Nope. Real door."

ALK'Q QORPQ DFABLK

Stan pulled his car up to the Gleeful's house. He opened the tiny iron gate, and walked past the flowers and garden décor, ready to have an aggressive talk with the li'l shyster.

He pounded the front door. "Gideon, you little punk!" He looked through the peephole in the door. "Open up!"

Then he noticed a sweet flowery sign hanging on the door that said "Pardon This Garden."

"I will pardon nothing!" he exclaimed, snatching it down from it's nail.

The door opened, and Bud Gleeful stuck his head out to see who dared to wreck havoc on their property, and smiled. "Why, Stanford Pines," he said in a hospitable tone. "What a delight!"

"Outta the way, Bud!" pushed Stan. "I'm lookin' for Gideon."

"Well, I haven't seen the boy around," his father replied. "But since you're here," he chuckled slightly, "you-you simply _must_ come in for coffee." With that, he pushed Stan inside the living room.

Stan tried to protest his good manners. "But-but, I came-"

"It's imported," he mentioned in his friendly car salesman voice. "All the way from Col-lumbia."

"Wow," said Stan, easily impressed. "I went to jail there once."

All at once he was in a good mood. He whistled as he gazed at the living room "Some digs you got here." He then noticed a painting of a depressed clown above the couch. "Oh, this. This is beautiful."

Bud obliged himself to get the two of them coffee mugs as Stan sat and continued to admire his home. "Now," he said. "I hear that your niece and my Gideon are, well, they're 'singing in harmony' lately, so to speak." He chuckled gleefully and sat himself down in a recliner.

Stan then abruptly recalled why he was here to begin with. "Uh- yeah, and I'm against it!" He knocked a pillow off the couch to emphasize his feelings.

N-n-no!" replied Bud. "I see it as a fantastic business opportunity- yes." He stood back up to further explain his idea to Stan. "The Mystery Shack and the Tent of Telepathy!" He took him around the shoulder and steered him further into the home as he spoke.

"We've been at each other's throats for far too long-" they came across a photo of Stan's face on a dart board- "let me get that"- he tore it off of a dart- "at each other's throats for far too long, yes we have! This is a big chance to brush aside our rivalry and pull our collective _profits_, you see."

Stan could see already hear the cash register dinging with the sound of business. But that was only because he was leaning on one. He pushed the cash drawer shut, and made a decision.

"I'm listenin'."

EB'II YB VLUO ALLJ

Gideon wiped his face with a napkin as he finished his meal. "So I said, 'Autograph your own head shot, lady!'" He laughed as he told the story to Mabel, but she wasn't paying much attention.

"Guh! Yeah," she said half-heartedly. The lobster at her plate snapped it's claws at her fork, and she didn't have the heart to kill it.

"Mabel, tonight's date was a complete success," said Gideon. "And_ tomorrow's_ date promises to top this one in every way."

Mabel snapped to attention. "Whoa whoa! You said just one date, and this was it."

"Hark! What a surprise! A red-crested South American rainbow macaw!" The bird described landed and perched on his arm. Mabel leaped in fright, and grabbed her lobster as a protective reflex. It was bigger than Gideon was!

"...two, three, four," counted Gideon to signal the bird.

"Mabel!" it squawked. "Will. You. A-ccom-pany. Gideon. To. The ballroom. Dance. This. Therbday." Gideon shook it on his arm. "Thursday!" it corrected, and hacked up an invitation from its throat. It's task finished, it flew away.

The scene didn't go unnoticed. Everyone in the restaurant was watching the cute couple banter.

"Ah, _so adorable_."

"Gideon's got a girlfriend."

"They're expecting us," whispered Gideon, holding up the invitation for Mabel. "Please say you'll go."

"Awwww," said a gathering crowd of Gideon admirers.

"Oh-Gideon, I'm sorry," said Mabel. "But I'm gonna have to say-"

"I'm on the edge of my seat," said Sheriff Blubbs.

"This is gonna be adorable," remarked Tyler.

"If she says no," said an elderly woman. "I'll die from sadness."

"I can verify that that will indeed happen," said her doctor.

Mabel felt the pressure mounting. Not only would Gideon be upset if she rejected him, but she would disappoint (and possible cause the death of) someone else in the crowd. She saw no other options.

ALK'Q ABZFMEBO

Dipper had his nose in the journal again, as he poured over another mystery with a Pitt soda pop at his side. Mabel was finally home, and had brought back with her a live lobster and a troubled mind.

"Hey," said Dipper, looking up from the pages. "How'd it go?"

"I don't know," she said despondently as she dropped her lobster into the fish tank. "I have a lobster now."

"Well, at least it's over and you never have to go out with him again," he said reaching for his can. His sister didn't respond; she just tapped the glass of the tank and watched her lobster. Dipper didn't take Mabel's lack of enthusiasm to be a promising sign.

"Mabel," he repeated. "It's over, right?"

She didn't look at him.

"Mabel..."

She caved. "Blarrrgh! He asked me out again and I didn't know how to say 'no!'"

"_Like this:_ 'No.'"

"It's not that easy, Dipper!" she argued, approaching the table. "And I do like Gideon... as a friend slash little sister! So I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I just need to get things back to where they used to be." She sat in a chair by the table. "You know, friends."

"So I take it the date didn't end well?" I asked, coming down the stairs. I overheard the tail end of the conversation from the landing upstairs, and was making my way down the stairs. I had an apology I had memorized and was prepared to give it.

"Mabel's got another date with Gideon," Dipper told me.

"Did he pressure you into making that commitment?" I asked her. That kid sounded like more of a manipulator than I had imagined.

"I'm not talking to you," said Mabel, turning me a stiff cold shoulder.

"You're talking to me right now," I pointed out.

"Did you hear something, Dipper, because I didn't," Mabel said to her brother.

"Oh, come on, Mabel, you can't keep this charade up forever," I said. "And you should tell Gideon that you're not interested in him. He's gonna keep manipulating you until you're trapped into-"

"Oh, what do you care?" yelled Mabel, tears streaming down her face. "You don't even know him! I don't like him that way, but he's a good friend. He would never tell me that he wants to be my friend and then act like he doesn't know me."

"I know that I haven't been the _best_ friend lately, and I'm sorry about that, Mabel. But I want you to be safe, which is why I need you to listen-"

"Since when did you care about _me_?" She got up from the table and stomped upstairs.

"All you ever care about is reading books and hanging out with Dipper!" She slammed the door to her bedroom shut, and the sound rattled all over the house.

"So that's what's bothering her," I realized, sitting down in her chair. "She thinks I'm playing favorites."

"She does have a point, though," remarked Dipper. "How come you two don't hang out? You guys are supposed to be like sisters."

I explained to him how I never had experience being an older sister for a sister, and that I haven't properly used good friendship skills for a few years due to all the moving I had done over the years. "I just want Mabel to know that I do care about her feelings and that I want to make it up to her."

"Don't worry," said Dipper. "She gets this way sometimes. She won't be mad at you forever."

"I hope not," I said. But how could I be sure?

YFII ZFMEBO

Stan left the next day to talk again with Bud Gleeful and left in charge for the day. This surprised me since he and Bud were supposed to be business foes. Are they burying the hatchet?

I kept thinking about it as I worked. It wasn't even a slow day; no one showed up at all. Dipper and Soos were siting by the counter, Soos fixing a broken lamp, and Dipper reading from the journal. I was playing with a yo-yo that had Stan's face on it. My mind was occupied with trying to figure out a way to get through to Mabel. It was killing me knowing that she hated me for being a bad sister.

_Talking it out won't work, so I have to make it up to her in some other way,_ I thought as Iattempted to try the walking-the-dog trick. _I can't just skip class to hang out with her. Write her an apology card?_ _Buy her candy?_

"Dipper, if Mabel stopped talking to you, what would you do to get back into her good graces?" I asked him.

"I usually just give her something that will make her happy again," he said over the pages of the journal. "But Mabel doesn't bear grudges forever; she'll forgive you eventually."

"But that's not the point," I said, undoing the baby-in-the-cradle I made from the yo-yo string. "Mabel's angry at me because she thinks I like you more than her and haven't been spending time with her. Waiting for her to forgive me isn't enough. I have to prove to her that I am sorry and do like you two equally." I did an all-around-the-world, my mind furiously searching for a solution.

"I hear ya, Iz," said Soos. "I had an old friend who got mad at me because I borrowed an expensive jacket from him and got a tear in it. He wouldn't talk to me for a month. The jacket only took a hour to stitch together, but I wish that our friendship was that easy to fix." As he spoke, the light bulb in the lamp flickered.

"Wait? Stitch? Friendship? That's it!" I exclaimed, the swinging yo-yo into the lamp and breaking the light bulb as it flickered on. "It's so obvious! Why I haven't I thought of it before? That's perfect! Soos, you're a _genius_! Dipper," I called, tossing him my yo-yo, " hold down the fort for me."

I hurried into the house side to my room. "I've got a friendship to stitch back together."

Soos and Dipper sat in stupefied silence, trying to make sense of what just happened.

"I don't see what's so smart about ripping a jacket, but OK,"replied Soos. He went to fetch a dustpan and broom, and Dipper went back to reading.

F GRPQ PXFA QEXQ QL OEVJB

Their next date was at the ballroom dance, and was ending with a trip under a moonlit sky on a gondola in the middle of the lake. Mabel wore a life jacket while Gideon wore a pair of water wings. Old Man McGucket was slowly rowing the boat across the water, an inner tube around his waist.

"Boatin' at night, boatin' at night," he said, happy with his task. "Weh, hehehehe, heee!"

"Ha, you know I thought dancing was gonna be the _end_ of the evening, right?" Mabel chuckled nervously. Gideon took her hands in his.

"Don't you want this evening to last, my sweet?" he asked her.

"NO!" she jumped. "I mean, yes. I mean I'm always happy to hang out with a friend... buddy... pal... chum... other word for friend?"

"Pal?" asked McGucket.

"I already said pal," Mabel replied. "Uh, mate?"

"How 'bout, _soul mate_?" whispered Gideon.

Just then, fire works rocketed into the sky behind her. They exploded into a red heart with her name inside it, bursting like red stars into the pristine night sky.

"Well, you can't say no to that," said McGucket.

And Mabel couldn't.

YRQ QEFP QFJB

Dipper came downstairs, boredness etched on his face. He was curious to find his sister in the living room, pacing and talking to herself in an agitated voice.

"He's so nice- But I can't keep doing this-But I can't break his heart- Ooohhh, I have no way out!"

"What in the heck happened on that date?" asked Dipper, entering the living room.

"I don't know!" she exasperated. "I was in the Friend Zone, and then before I knew what was happening, he pulled me into the Romance Zone. It was like quicksand! _Chummy quicksand!_"

"Mabel, come on," replied Dipper. "It's not like you're gonna have to _marry_ Gideon."

"Great news, Mabel," said Stan as he walked into the door frame, wearing a "Team Gideon" T-shirt. "You have to marry Gideon!"

"What?!" she cried.

"It's all part of my long term deal with Buddy Gleeful," he explained. "There's a lot of cash tied up in this thing. Plus I got this shirt!" He looked down at his belly, and his smile then turned up-side down. "Uhh, I am fat."

Mabel screamed hysterically and ran away upstairs.

"Bodies change, honey," called Stan. "Bodies change."

Dipper went upstairs, and opened the door to their bedroom to search for her. He didn't see her at first, but then he looked in a corner. "Ooh no," he said. "Mabel?"

Mabel had her head, arms, and knees tucked deep inside her sweater. She rocked back and forth in the corner. "Mabel's not here," she said. "She's in Sweatertown."

Dipper tried to pull the turtle from her shell. "Are you gonna come _out_ of Sweatertown?" asked Dipper hopefully. She puppy-whined and shook her head.

"All right," sighed her brother. "Enough is enough. If you can't break up with Gideon, then I-I'll do it for you."

"You will?" she said, peeking her eyes above the color of her sweater. He gave her brotherly empathetic smile and nodded.

"Oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!" she said, coming out of Sweatertown and punching him appreciatively.

"Huh, OK, all right, all right," he replied, happy to make his sister happy again, rolling his eyes as he accepted her hug.

F TLK'Q

Gideon had planned out their next date to be at The Club, the fanciest and most expensive restaurant in Gravity Falls. It rested at the top of a cliff that over looked the town in the valley.

Dipper walked in, hands in his pockets, searching out Gideon's table. He found him holding a menu that was almost three times his height, coughed awkwardly to get his attention, and waited for Gideon to respond.

"Oh, Dipper Pines," said Gideon, placing his menu on the table. "How are you? You look good, you look good."

"Thanks. You uh-" replied Dipper, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure how to go about with "breaking up" with him. "Look, Gideon, we've gotta talk. Mabel isn't joining you tonight. She uh-she doesn't want to see you anymore!" He chuckled nervously. "She's says she's kinda weirded out by you, _no offense_."

Gideon's eye twitched."So what you're sayin' is, you've come _between us_," he said, his voice dark.

"You're not gonna like... freak out or anything, are ya?" asked Dipper.

Gideon scowled, but smiled and replied sweetly, "Of course not. These things happen. Ha ha, bygones, you know."

"So, OK, cool," replied Dipper surprised by how well the kid took it. "Well, then again, sorry man, but, uh, heeey, thumbs up! Huh?" He turned and walked out, pleased to be done and over with the awkward exchange.

Gideon sat placidly in his posh seat. "Thumbs up, indeed, my friend," he whispered.

Mabel was waiting anxiously outside the front door when Dipper walked out. "How'd it go? Was he mad? Did he try to read your mind with his psychic powers?"

"Don't worry Mabel," assured her brother. "He's just a kid. He doesn't have any powers."

XR OBSLFO

But back at the Gleeful home, Gideon was in his bedroom, alone with his furious buzzing thoughts. The only light came from a candle and from the lights circling the mirror around his vanity, where he stared at his reflection, his breathing becoming heavier as his fury grew.

"Dipper Pines, you don't know what you've done," he said, grasping the charm in his bolo tie. The charm glowed an ominous turquoise color, and the candle from the vanity rose into the air. The light bulbs in the mirror siding popped and the lights died out. Sweat spotted Gideon's face as he gazed hard into the mirror. Then, the furniture in his room glowed turquoise and floated above the floor.

Gideon turned from the mirror as he spoke. "You've just made the biggest mistake of your life!"

Using the bolo tie to control his possessions, he threw his wardrobe to the floor, and it splattered into splintery smithereens. The rest of his furniture fell to the floor in a cluttered mess.

His father opened the door to his room. "Gideon Charles Gleeful," he scolded. "Clean up your room this instant!"

"I can _buy_ and _sell_ you, old man!" yelled Gideon.

Bud stood there a moment in silence.

"Fair enough," he replied. He closed the door and left him alone.

Gideon looked up at the back of his door. There was a cork board that hung there, with photos of Mabel tacked and taped in the middle. The photo in the very center of the board was one of Mabel and her brother. Gideon grabbed the charm again. The photo glowed turquoise, and Dipper was burned to ash.


	14. Ch 13: THTRTM: Gideon's Vendetta

Chapter 14: The Hand That Rocks The Mabel: Gideon's Vendetta

Saturday. Finally. The school week was over, and I was finished with my apology gift for Mabel. It had taken two days, eight hours, three minutes, forty-eight seconds to complete, but I knew she would love them.

Stan had left the Shack again for the day, visiting with Buddy Gleeful to discuss more business plans. Apparently, he was trying to arrange some sort of marriage agreement between Gideon and Mabel. None of us informed him that their relationship was dead. At least, I didn't. I was too busy trying to bring my sisterhood with Mabel back to life.

Outside, the twins were playing a game with Soos where he held a pillow over his stomach, and they ran into it. Soos stuffed the pillow under his shirt. "Hit me, dude."

Dipper and Mabel rushed into it, bounced off it, and laughed. "Feels good," said Soos.

"I'm so glad everything's back to_ normal_," said Mabel. Of course, there was Iz, who wasn't even bothering to show her face anymore since Mabel's outburst. But she tried to focus more on the fact that Gideon's relationship was good and over. She wondered if her friendship with Iz was too.

Inside the gift shop, the phone rang.

"Your turn," the twins said simultaneously to each other. But Mable said it faster.

"Ah, man," complained Dipper, but he headed in anyway to take the call.

"Yello?" asked Dipper.

"Toby Determined, _Gravity Falls Gossiper_," replied the reporter.

"Oh, hey man," said Dipper. "Sorry for accusing you of murder last week."

"Water under the bridge. _Say_, we want to interview you about whether if you've seen anything _unusual_ in this here _town_ since you've arrived."

"Oh – finally! I thought nobody would ever ask! I have notes and theories –" Dipper pulled out his notepad, and took down an address to meet Toby at. "Uh-huh. Uhhh-huh. Four one two, Gopher Road. Tonight? Got it." He hung up, excited that someone finally wanted to talk with him about his discoveries.

"Hey Dipper! Who called?" I asked, finally emerging into complete daylight. How I missed it.

"Where've you been all this time?" he asked me instead.

"I've been making this," I replied, holding up a small cardboard box.

"You've been making a box?"

"No, I made a gift for Mabel that's _inside_ the box. The perfect thing that will mend our friendship." I grabbed my phone that was charging behind the counter of the gift shop. "Now all I need to do is go downtown and get it specially gift-wrapped." I couldn't wrap presents to save my life.

"Aren't you going a little overboard on this whole apology thing?"

"I want it to be perfect for her, Dipper. She's my summer sister. I need to be the big sister she never had."

Dipper pulled out his notepad, and showed me an address. "Well, as long as you're going into town, can you take me to this address on the way back? Toby Determined called and said that he wanted to hear about all the unusual stuff I've found in Gravity Falls."

"That's great!" I exclaimed. "Everyone will finally know that there's crazy stuff to look out for in these parts. But we can't be too long. I want to be back as soon as possible to make Mabel happy again."

"All right, it's about … six fifteen," Dipper said as he glanced at a clock on the wall. "I have to meet Toby at seven."

"Let's go now," I replied. "I'll start up the golf cart and we'll be on our way." I grabbed a disposable camera lying next to my phone. "I can't wait to take a picture of her face when she sees what I made her. It'll go in her scrapbook, and my conscience will be cleared." I followed after Dipper who already had a head start on me.

As I started up the engine, I caught sight of Mabel, running headfirst into Soos' pillow-soft stomach. I tried giving her a smile, but she only returned a look a bitter sadness. Like betrayal. Unfortunately, I knew exactly why. And having Dipper with me in the golf cart, ready to zip out on another adventure together without her, didn't help my case. Even so, I continued with my quest, informing Soos and her where Dipper and I would be and at what time exactly, and where to go if they needed to find us. I promised we wouldn't be long. It was one I meant to keep.

WRR EDG VKH HQGHG XS EUHDNLQJ LW

Meanwhile, back in his office, Toby hung up, and looked across his desk. "There. I did your dirty work. Now it's time to pay _your_ end of the bargain!" A slip of paper was tossed to him.

Toby gasped as he took hold of the paper. "Shandra Jimenez's phone number?! Bless you, Li'l Gideon."

The child psychic walked out of the office, the first part of his plan completed.

WREB'V D UDQ DQG D FUHHS

At about 7 p.m., Dipper and I arrived up the sloped path that would take us to Dipper's destination: 412 Gopher Road. A mailbox nearby read the same address number, and at the top of the slope was a disused warehouse.

With my wrapped gift in one hand, I glanced down at the time on my phone. We were here on time. So why did the joint seem deserted?

"I don't see any sign of him," I noticed. "Are you sure we have the right address?"

"It's where the GPS on your phone told us to go," he reminded me.

Dipper glanced back and forth between the written address and the old building, pocketed the notepad and continued up the path. I stuck my apology gift inside a back pocket of my jeans and followed him, wondering why a reporter would ask Dipper to meet at a rundown place like this.

We didn't see any sign of him outside, so Dipper assumed that he would have meet Toby inside the warehouse. I found the front door to be unlocked, but was hesitant to go inside.

"We're in a secluded place, off the beaten path, in the middle of nowhere, where no one else would bother going," I noted, taking a full scope of our surroundings.

"Welcome to Gravity Falls, Iz," replied Dipper, rolling his eyes, reaching to pull the door open.

"I don't know, Dipper. Something doesn't seem right about this. Why would Toby tell you to come here? Why not just meet you someplace in town?"

"Does it matter? He's going to interview me about everything I know about the mysterious stuff in town. This could be my only shot at being heard and taken seriously about all this. Don't you think that someone other than us should know what's going on around here?"

I was a little surprised that Dipper's usual paranoid instincts weren't alerting him to the possible dangers that these circumstances seemed to be adding up to. But I knew how much this meant to him, and didn't want to disappoint him like I've been disappointing his sister. Also, the more I argued with him, the less time I had to get back home to deliver my gift. So I conceded and waited outside while he went in to find the reporter.

Inside, all was dark.

"Hello?" called Dipper, walking inside. He was met with silence. Boxes of merchandise slept piled in the shadows. Cracked windows coated in thick dust refused to let the fading sunlight venture in. The whole place seemed at once sleepy, and strangely alive.

Dipper, disappointed that Toby wasn't here after all, turned to leave. Except the door got in his way, slamming of its own accord. Dipper pounded on the door, calling my name.

"Dipper? What's going on? Are you trapped in there?"

He and I both tried desperately to force it open, when behind Dipper, all at once, the ceiling lights came on. He turned and watched them as one by one, they lit up, leading to the end of the room. The last light beam fell over a swiveling office chair. It swung around to face Dipper, it's occupant stroking a Li'l Gideon doll.

"Hello, friend," said Gideon.

Dipper's fear turned into annoyance in an instant. "Gideon," he sighed in an irritated tone.

When I heard the name on the other side of the door, I went to a cracked pane in one of the windows to spy on what was going on inside. _Oh no. _He_ brought us out here?What's going on?_

Gideon played with the arms of his doll, and held a conversational tone as he spoke. "Dipper Pines, how long have you been livin' in this town – a week? Two? You like it here?" His tone became serious as he asked his last question. "Enjoy the scenery?"

Dipper cut to the chase. "What do you want from me, man?"

"Listen carefully, boy" he replied menacingly. "This town has secrets you couldn't _begin_ to comprehend."

Dipper believed this had more to do with something else other than "secrets."

"Is this about Mabel? I told you she's not into you!"

"LIAR! YOU turned her against me!" Gideon stood up form the chair, and approached Dipper, grabbing the amulet in his bolo tie. It glowed an ominous turquoise. "She was my peach dumplin'!"

"Uh, you okay, man?" Dipper asked uneasily. He had been afraid the kid was going to freak out about breaking up with Mabel.

_Is this kid going to try to fight Dipper or something? The little brat couldn't lift a finger against – _

Gideon waved his hand in an upward motion, levitating Dipper off the floor in a turquoise glow. Dipper and I gasped as Gideon threw his arm, and he flew across the room into a stack of cardboard boxes. They burst open upon impact, and a Li'l Gideon doll landed on his lap. "Howdy," it squeaked, as Gideon's shadow fell across Dipper.

"Readin' minds isn't all I can do," said Gideon in a wicked whisper.

"But – but you're a fake," said Dipper weakly.

"So tell me, Dipper: is this fake?"

He gripped the amulet again, raised his arm, and all the unsold items that had been pack into boxes levitated in the air. Li'l Gideon brand clocks, mugs, pillows, and lunchboxes hovered over Dipper, who was really beginning to regret coming here. So was I.

SKRWRJUDSKLF HYLGHQFH ZRXOG EH XVHIXO

Mabel sat forlornly on the front porch in the growing shadow of the nearby pine forest. She thought that she would be fine not being bothered by either Isannah or Gideon, but the guilt of yelling and being angry with her and not being brave enough to stand him down on her own had been on her mind all day. She couldn't help but question about whether she handle either situation well. She nibbled a strand of her hair as her thoughts and feelings ran confusedly through her troubled mind.

Wendy came out with her, tossing a towel over her shoulder, pleased that the work day was over. She sat by Mabel on the front step. "How's that hair tastin', buddy?"

"Wendy, I need some advice," replied Mabel, removing the strand from her mouth. "You've broken up with guys, right?"

"_Oh_ yeah. Russ Durham, Eli Hall, Stoney Davidson …"

"I don't know what's wrong with me! I thought everything was back to normal, but I still feel all gross. And Isannah isn't talking to me at all anymore. Not since she tried apologizing to me and warning me about Gideon."

"... Mike Wirley, Nate Holt, uh … that guy with the tattoos …"

"Maybe I was too hard on Isannah. She did try to apologize about it. She needs to be forgiven. And maybe letting Dipper do it for me was a mistake. Gideon deserves an honest breakup."

" … Danny Feldman, Mark Epstene – oh man, I'm not sure I ever actually broke up with him. No wonder he keeps calling me."

"I know what I've gotta do. Thanks for talking to me, Wendy." Mabel then ran off the porch, jumped on her bike that was resting nearby, and peddled off. She knew where to find Isannah. Gideon would be her next priority.

Wendy was still pondering her past boyfriend troubles when her phone went off. She checked to see who was trying to reach her, and said, "Ignore."

LV ZHQGB D KHDUWEUHDNHU RU ZKDW?

Dipper ran for his life, dodging merchandise missiles as Gideon laughed and continued to torment him. He ran to the opposite side of the building, but Gideon caused a tall cabinet to lean forward to crush Dipper. He leaped out of the way as it fell, rolling into a somersault, and slamming against a wall.

Gideon laughed as Dipper rubbed his head in pain. "Grunkle Stan was right about you. You _are_ a monster!"

"Your sister will be MINE! Hahahahaha ha," Gideon laughed wickedly. He tugged a pull string on his doll, and it repeated his laugh. "Hahahahaha ha."

Dipper glanced beside him, and saw an item that he desperately needed: a baseball bat inside a box labeled "Li'l Gideon Blunt Object." He tore his hand through the plastic wrap over the toy, grabbed the bat.

Gideon meanwhile was still playing with his doll self. "Who's a cute little guy? You are!"

"No, you are!" replied the doll.

This kid was bigger manipulator than I could have imagined. I ran back to the door, and tried to force it open by ramming my shoulder against it. It wasn't locked at all, and gave easy. Too easy. I found myself kissing the floor and wondering for a dazed moment how I got there.

Gideon turned when he heard me barge in. "What? Why, Isannah Tannenbaum. How nice to formally make your acquaintance."

I spat some dust out of my mouth before replying. "I'd hate to say the same about you."

His tone became accusatory. "Why are you here? Are you babysittin' li'l Dipper Pines? He can't take care of himself?"

"Kid, Mabel doesn't want to date you anymore," I told him plainly. "She likes you, but not in that way."

"LIAR! You're all liars!" He levitated a cardboard box, and threw it at me. I tried to dodge it, but it hit me squarely against my back and threw me against a stack of other boxes. My eye barely missed being jabbed by a box corner.

Cold logic wasn't gonna work on this conniving child. I twisted myself to face Gideon again. "If anyone's a liar here, it's _you_! You promised Mabel only one date, and now you're trying to run her life!" I stood to my feet, trying not trip over any merchandise. "I should've known you were trouble from your mockery of evangelism and gospel music."

"Don't appreciate my taste?" he asked. "Of everyone there that night, I thought _you_ would!" He sighed, as though it was a shame he had wasted his time and energy on trying to impress me. "But everyone knows how stuck-up you Christians are." He levitated me, and carelessly threw me against the door. My back slammed into it, and I felt a rush of air get knocked out of my lungs. I slumped against the floor, and prayed I didn't break a rib.

I was done talking with this monster. I could barely get any words out anyway."Gideon," I gasped. "You will … leave … Dipper … and Mabel … alone ..."

"Or _what_?" he taunted.

"Or else …" I pulled my disposable camera out of my pocket. "I'll send these … pictures of you … trying to harm Dipper, and expose your true nature for the whole town to see." There was a reason why I delayed Dipper's rescue.

At that moment, Dipper decided to take his chance, and held the bat ready to swing at his head. But Gideon saw his attack coming, and levitated Dipper off the floor in mid-run, causing him to drop his weapon. He then levitated me off the ground, causing me to drop my camera, and threw me across by Dipper, where he could see us both. He then levitated the bat and used it to smash my camera to smithereens.

"She's never gonna date you, man!" Dipper yelled at the rage-driven monster.

"You can't get away with this!" I added.

"Those are lies!" Gideon yelled back. He glanced over at a box labeled "Li'l Gideon Lamb Shears."

"And I'm gonna make sure you _never_ lie to _me_ again, _friends_."

A pair of shears cut their way through the box. We were trapped in midair, unable to move away from the floating shears poised at our mouths.

I prayed and searched the room frantically, seeking out a solution.

_No one knows we're trapped here! What are we gonna do, God?! _

The shears snipped like the jaws of a monster as they floated closer, and closer …

"Gideon! We have to talk."

Gideon had made the same mistake twice. The forgotten door had been thrown open, and there stood Mabel.

I could have cried I was so happy to see her.

Gideon turned to her, not expecting this turn of events. "M-Mabel, my marshmalla." He dropped the shears, but kept me and Dipper were we were. "What are you doin' here?"

"I'm sorry, Gideon," she said, rubbing her arm sadly, "but I can't be your marshmallow. I needed to be honest and tell you that myself."

"I … I don't understand," he replied, tightening his grip on his bolo tie. Suddenly, Dipper felt his airways being constricted. My hair snaked itself around my neck, and squeezed it.

"Uh, Mabel?" he said in choked voice. "This probably isn't the best time to be brutally honest with him!" He looked like a balloon that was about to pop.

_Being choked by my own hair? This irony is _so_ sick. _My hair looped like a noose. I felt pressure build inside my chest.

"Hey, but we can still be makeover buddies, right?" Mabel asked sympathetically as she approached him, and took his hands in hers. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"Really?" he asked hopefully with his adorable "Aw" face.

Mabel glanced at his bolo tie, and grabbed it.

"No, not really!" she cried furiously, ripping the tie off and letting us fall before we died of suffocation. "You were like, attacking my siblings! What the heck?!"

"My tie!" cried Gideon. "Give it back!"

Mabel tossed it to Dipper, who caught it with a "Ha!"

"Not so powerful without _this_, are you?" he taunted.

"Dipper, watch out – " But before either of us could even finish our sentences, Gideon bellowed, charged, and rammed himself, me, and Dipper out the window that overlooked the cliff the warehouse sat on.

"Iz! Dipper!" called Mabel as the amulet dropped unto the floor.

The three of us screamed as we fell down the high drop.

Gideon slapped Dipper repeatedly across his face, until Dipper slapped back, and the two fought as they tumbled through the empty air.

I almost slapped both of them to get their attention. But my shrill voice was enough to distract them.

"WE'RE GONNA DIE!"

It took them a few seconds to pause and realize we were about to meet their demise at the grass below them. We screamed.

"I WISH I COULD FLY!" I screamed into the wind. We shut our eyes as we waited to slam the ground.

But the end never came.

We opened our eyes to find ourselves glowing turquoise. Dipper and me floated upright, and Gideon was upside down. In the light of the moon floated Mabel, her face set with a warrior-like scowl, levitating with the amulet in her right hand. She floated to the ground, and addressed Gideon.

"Listen Gideon. It's over. I will never, ever, date you."

"Yeah!" added Dipper in agreement. Mable dropped the three of us safely on the ground, and threw the amulet at a stone. It broke upon impact, and a turquoise skull cloud floated up as the remains of the amulet disappeared.

"My powers!" cried the fraudulent child prodigy. He stood and backed away.

"Oh, this isn't over," he vowed, his voice gradually morphing into a whisper. "This isn't the last you'll see of widdle ... ol' … _me_." He backed away into the forest behind him, and disappeared from view.

The twins just gave each other side glances, and I sighed, relief replacing the fear and adrenaline that had been coursing through me.

_Well, now is as good a time as ever to give her my full apology_. "Mabel," I addressed, reaching in my back pocket for my gift. "I'm sorry tha– "

"No, Iz," she replied stubbornly, and my heart sank. Sadly, I thought that she'd never hear me out. Which was why I was taken back when she said,"_I'm_ sorry."

"What? You lost me."

"I shouldn't be so angry with you. You didn't tell me how you felt because you didn't want to hurt my feelings. If you don't want to be friends with me anymore, than I won't try to make you feel guilty about it." She smiled regrettably at me. "I know now how _that_ feels."

I was speechless. I was certainly not expecting an apology from Mabel, and not one like this. I had to say something!

"But Mabel, I _do _want to be your friend! It's what I've been meaning to tell you all along! I just wanted to say that I'm sorry that I didn't hang out with you before when we should have. I _love_ being your summer sister, and to prove it," I felt for the box, and placed it in her hands, "I made you this."

The gift box had been crushed and the meticulously wrapped paper crumpled and torn. Good thing the gift inside wasn't fragile.

Mabel ripped the paper off, pulled the lid off the box, and gasped. She pulled out a pair of toe socks. They matched her shooting star sweater, with stars on the toes, and rainbow colors streaking along in tails behind them.

"I knitted them myself," I told her. "It was why I was hiding for the last couple of days. I hope that it makes up for all the time I lost not being your sister."

With almost a teary smile, she embraced me around my neck in a hug. I wrapped an arm around her. Dipper stood off to the side watching the sorrow and forgiveness play out. But I wrapped my other arm around his neck, and pulled him into the hug. He couldn't help but smile as his sisters repaired their bond, and returned our hug.

Our family was reunited.

DZZZ

Bud Gleeful was pleased with how business negotiations were going between him and Stanford Pines. Very pleased. He knew his son would be too.

He was seated in his recliner, pouring bottled water in a glass for himself. Stan was seated on the living room couch, signing a contract. He finished with an air of satisfaction.

"Ah, this is livin' brother." He took his glass of bottled water in hand, leaned back against the couch, and knocked his knuckles against the crying clown painting behind him.

"From now on it's all name brand foods and clown paintin's," agreed Bud. He and Stan clinked glasses, just as Gideon walked in.

"We-he-ll, hey Gideon," said his father. "Look who I – "

Gideon ignored him, storming right up to Stan, standing atop the coffee table between them. "Stanford Pines, I rebuke thee!" He clenched a fist for emphasis. "I rebuke thee!"

Stan sat there confused. "Rebuke? Is that a word?"

"The entire Pines' household has invoked my fury!" Gideon continued. "You will recompense for your transgressions!"

"What, you got a word-a-day calender or something?"

"Ap bap bap but – but sunshine?" Bud intervened with a nervous laugh. "What about our arrangement with Mabel and – "

"SILENCE!" his son snapped at him. He turned back to Stan with a murdering glare.

"Well, uh, I see that he's takin' to one of his _rages_ again. Eh, sorry Stan, I have to side with Gideon on this one." Bud obliged his son by taking the contract off the table and ripping it in two.

Stan watched regrettably as the agreement between them was destroyed, and stood up. "OK, OK, I can see when I'm not wanted." He turned to leave, but not before snatching something behind him. He wasn't leaving the deal with nothing.

"Stan," said Bud. "I'm-I'm sorry but I'm gonna need that paintin' back. Stan? Stan!"

"TRY AND CATCH ME, SUCKERS!" called Stan, running out of the house with the sad clown painting under his arm.

(X PXA ZILTK FP X MOBQQV PFDE) backwards a sad clown is a pretty sight

Back at the Shack, the twins lay out on the arm chair in the living room, Dipper and I bruised, and all of us exhausted. I took to faceplanting the living room floor.

Nearby, Stan hung up the clown painting, sighing sadly to himself. "I coulda had it all." He turned to us, and said, "What the heck happened to you three?"

"Gideon."

"Gideon."

"Gideon."

"Gideon," finished Stan with almost a growl in his tone. He sat himself on the dinosaur skull while I pulled myself into a sitting position.

"Yeah, the little mutant "swore vengeance" on the whole family," Stan continued. "Ha, I guess he gonna's try to nibble my ankles or somethin'."

"Oh, yeah," realized Dipper. "Yeah, how's he gonna destroy us _now_, huh? Try to guess what number we're thinking of?" he laughed.

"He'll _never_ guess what number _I'm_ thinking of," said Mabel. "Negative eight! No one would guess a negative number."

We all laughed. For my part, I was never gonna deal with mind readers or fortune-tellers again. I would never want to be like one of them. I was listening to my parents ideas from now on.

"Oooo, look out!" said Stan in mock fear. "He's planning our destruction right now." He sat down on top of the twins while they continued laughing. Then he gave me a noogy, messing my already unruly locks into tighter knots. But I was laughing so hard I couldn't care less.

"Oh no, my pompadour is ruined!" I said in a mock imitation of Gideon's voice. "The doves were building a nest there!"

This made the Pines laugh even more. Mabel was near tears, and Dipper was breathless.

The whole Shack was full of laughter on into the night.

ODXJKWBU LV WKH EHVW PHGLFLQH

Gideon sat in his room, a self-made diorama of the Mystery Shack on a desk, along with some freshly painted little dolls of the Pines family and their tenant. He finished painting the face on his Mabel doll, and walked her along the desk, and up to him.

"Gideon," he said in an imitation of Mabel's voice. "I still love you, if only my family weren't in the way."

He then popped the head of his Stan doll on, and said in an imitation of his voice, "Look at me. I'm old, and I'm smelly."

He squirted glue form a tube onto a doll head of Isannah and attached a patch of hair and tiny ponytail to it. "Oh, you can't get away with it forever," he said in an Isannah imitation. "'Cause I'm a tattletalin' goody-two-shoes."

He finished painting on Dipper's face, and in a dopey imitation of his voice, said "Hey, what are you gonna do without your precious amulet?

"Oh, you'll see, boy," he replied to the doll with an evil grin. He looked down at a page that featured a drawn picture of his former mystic amulet, and closed the cover of Journal 2.

"You'll see."

PHUUB FKULVWPDV!

"You done?" I asked Mabel.

"Not yet," she replied. She was rigging me up because she had fantastic idea. It would have worked better with a body type like Soos, but I wasn't complaining. This was a Mabel project I was more than willing to participate in. I felt that I was gonna have fun.

"How bout now?"

"Almost … and … there."

I turned around, the entire anterior side of my body covered in sequins. I figured that bedazzling her own face led to this idea, and I loved it. I was finally doing something fun with Mabel.

Dipper stood by with a flashlight in hand, and Mabel was poised by the light switch.

"Let's do this," I said with determination.

At my word, Mabel turned out the lights, Dipper flipped on the flashlight, and music played. I turned slowly in a circle, and the reflected light of the sequins danced around the room.

I had become a living disco ball.

Stan stood watching it all with obvious dislike.

"You're all fired."

FDUOD, ZKB ZRQ'W BRX FDOO PH?


	15. Ch14: The Inconveniencing: Dusk 2 Dawn

_A/N Sorry for the long wait guys, but your patience has not been in vain. Enjoy the next chapter!_

Chapter 15: The Inconveniencing: Dusk 2 Dawn

Thursday, and only a few more hours until the day was over and I had to return back to college. Not that I wasn't looking forward to my lectures, but I heard from the forecaster that it was going to be stifling hot tomorrow, and some genius knocked the one air conditioner out of its window at the Gravity Falls Community College. Until then, I tried to enjoy as much central cooling in the Mystery Shack as I could.

It was Thursday. Today, business was slow (no surprise there), and with no customers, the employees of the Mystery Shack had all found something to occupy the space of time before closing. Wendy was leaning against the register counter, reading a magazine. Dipper was sitting on a barrel by the same counter, reading the Journal. Mabel was sitting atop a globe on the register counter, spinning in circles. Soos was across the room, occupied with cleaning. I was sitting on a crate across from the register, finishing some Algebra problems, and still thanking God that I didn't have to take Calculus.

The only sound in the Gift Shop was the squeak of the globe as Mabel rotated. But Dipper broke that silence with a question.

"Mabel, do you believe in ghosts?" he asked in all seriousness.

"I believe you're a big dork," she replied, laughing and spinning. Dipper used the pencil he held to stop the globe's rotation, and Mabel fell to the floor with a puff of dust.

"What about you, Iz?" he asked me. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

I looked up from my work, and considered my response. "Well, the only ghost that _I_ believe in is the Holy Ghost. And I don't really believe in all that spiritual haunting stuff. Once you die, you either go upstairs or downstairs. You don't live on the ground level for all eternity."

I wasn't trying to pretend to know the answers to life, but I certainly didn't want Dipper to have to worry about ghosts possessing his body or whatever. I once knew an atheist who said that if you don't believe in something, you don't give it power._ But that guy probably doesn't stop believing in air or food._ "The Bible only speaks about going either to heaven or hell, not about ghosts living on earth, and I believe those accounts."

"But what about the one story in the Bible when King Saul asked a medium to call up the spirit of the prophet Samuel to speak with him?" countered Dipper. "Wasn't Samuel a ghost?"

I hadn't read _that_ story in a long while. "That part of Scripture is tricky," I admitted. "Some think that it may have been Samuel, or that it may have been a demon impersonating him. But I – "

The bell over the door rang, and I glanced to see Stan Pines enter the door frame. "Soos! Wendy! Isannah!" he called.

Soos ran from across the room at his word. I bookmarked my homework page, and left it on the crate. Wendy stood where she was, unmoved.

"What's up, Mr. Pines?" Soos panted.

"I'm headin' out," Stan told them. "You three are gonna wash the bathrooms, right?"

"Left!" I saluted.

"Yes, sir!" saluted Soos.

"Absolutely not!" saluted Wendy.

"Ha ha," laughed Stan briefly. His humor didn't last. "You stay out of trouble," he warned. With that, he walked out and closed the door behind him.

As the manager of the Shack left, Wendy smiled, and headed to the other side of the room. "Hey, guys," she called our attention. "What's this?" She approached a curtain that hung next to an exhibit of a dried out "mermaid." She dragged the curtain, revealing a ladder that lead through a door in the ceiling. "Secret ladder to the roof?"

I wasn't on board with this idea. I had broken some personal rules last week attending Gideon's psychic service, and I saw what had become of that fiasco. I had vowed to be a stickler to rules and common sense, and I wasn't ready to possibly trespass and unintentionally break some unspoken rule. Besides, almost an entire week had passed without anything disastrous or life-threatening occurring. I wasn't willing to tempt the Fates.

"Uhhh, I don't think Mr. Pines would like that," said Soos, already seeing where Wendy was going with this hidden passage.

"Huh?" replied Wendy, holding a hand in front of her like a mime touching an invisible wall.

"Uhhh," said Soos, unsure how to respond. He was thrown off by her weird reply.

"Huh?" she repeated.

"You're freaking me out, dude!"

"Can we actually go up there?" asked Dipper, already on his feet. He and Mabel were ready to follow her to the moon. _Oh no._ The crazed man building a contraption capable of mass destruction and the wax man uprising had been completely unforeseen and out of my control. But this had plenty of evident death possibilities that I could see coming.

"Sure," said Wendy, already ascending the ladder. "Roof time! Roof time!"

"Roof time! Roof time!" chanted the twins as they followed after her. _Wait, they're actually following her? Come on!_ "Guys, wait for me! I don't think that this is safe!"

Soos glanced apprehensively outside the prism window on the front door of the Gift Shop as the four traversed over the tiled roof.

The ladder led up to a door in the slanted roof. Wendy opened it, and then proceeded as though it were just natural to walk along the spine of a mossy roof. We followed after her, me staring at the height that spanned between us and the unforgiving ground, and shuddering from memory. We climbed up the main roof, past the fallen "S" from the sign, and to the apex.

There, Wendy stood and gestured below us. "All right, check it out."

"Whoa! Cool!" said Dipper. He was ahead of us, and saw what Wendy had hidden on the opposite slope of the Shack.

On a dormer of the slope was a lounge chair, an umbrella, a cooler, and a bucket of pine cones. A little corner of the Shack that Wendy had fixed for herself. I tried hard not to admire her for her thinking of a clever, if precarious, idea.

The twins followed her down the slope of the roof to the secret hideout, and I was compelled to follow them. "Did you put all this stuff up here?" asked Dipper in amazed wonder while Mabel opened the cooler to see what was stashed in there.

"I may or may not sneak up here during work," replied Wendy nonchalantly. "All the time, everyday."

_Well, at least that mystery can now be put to rest,_ I thought stiffly. I checked inside the cooler myself, to see what exactly she kept up here. "And since you showed us this, does this mean you're giving us permission to come up here too?"

"Of course," replied Wendy. "Why wouldn't I share this with you guys? It's _so_ much fun! Watch this." She reached into the bucket, pulled out a pine cone, and reeling her arm back, threw it at a target that was taped up on the totem pole across the drive. The pine cone did not disappoint. I inwardly growled;I had to admire her for that throw too.

"Yes!" Wendy fist pumped in victory.

_Another mystery solved. I didn't think that _Stan_ would have taped that up there for any reason._

Dipper and Mabel wanted to try their luck, and grabbed fistfulls of pine cones, following suit. None of the cones had the distance that Wendy's had. But Dipper added some more thrust into one of his throws, and managed to get his cone to hit the only car parked in the lot below and set off it's alarm. I dropped the pine cone I had gripped back into the bucket. _So much for showing her up._

Dipper blushed in alarm.

"Jackpot!" congratulated Wendy. "High five!"

Dipper gazed up at her. Her smile paired perfectly with her freckles. The wind teased her long red locks. A tress partially hid her face, the one that always gave her that coy secretive look that intrigued him.

"Don't leave me hangin'," her voice interrupted his thoughts.

Dipper smiled, and eagerly the two of them hit a perfect ten.

The sound of metal music cut through the air, and Wendy looked up surprised. "Oh hey, it's my friends!"

A used van pulled up in the driveway, and a hand waved out of the open window of the driver's side. "Wendy!" it called.

Wendy turned back to face us. "Uh, you guys aren't gonna tell Stan about this, are you?"

I couldn't believe that she actually trusted us to even show us the roof hideout, never mind about her running out on the job. _I should just tell Stan. She isn't being a good employee not doing her job. Or a very safe one._

I wasn't a tattle-tell by habit or desire, but Wendy wasn't making herself look any better playing hooky at work. She would only be getting what I thought she deserved.

But then, my better conscience kicked in.

_Well, it's a slow day, the shift is pretty much over, and Stan's gonna probably be gone for a while. I don't appreciate Wendy's work ethic, but is it really worth making an issue out of it? And would Stan _really_ have a problem if he knew, or is it just me? He doesn't care how a job is done, so long as it gets done. Besides, the only job we have can be a two person job. Why pick your battles when you can just make your peace?_

Before I could come to some inner resolution, Dipper made a motion of sealing his lips, and throwing away the key.

It was all the answer Wendy needed. She appreciatively copied the gesture.

"Later, dorks," she said, and jumped atop a nearby pine tree. Her weight at the apex of the tree caused it to lower itself by another pine tree, and she leaped atop that one, and it lowered her to the ground and her awaiting friends. She hopped in the music-blaring van, and it took off down the road, with her friends yelling "Let's get out of here! Whoo! Yeah!"

"Later, Wendy!" called Dipper, laughing nervously. "Good times," he sighed.

"I'm going to complete her job for no extra pay now," I said, climbing my way back. Seeing as how the twins had managed the climb better than I had, I felt a little less fearful about leaving them here unattended. Climbing on the roof was one thing, but I hoped that this hazardous stunt wouldn't encourage the twins to do anything out right stupid like the delinquent who vandalized the water tower.

"Uh, oh," said Mabel, looking at her brother with a playful smile.

"What?" frowned Dipper.

"Somebody's in _looove_," she said poking his face.

"Yeah, right," replied Dipper, rolling his eyes. "I just think that Wendy's cool, OK? It's not like I lay awake at night _thinking_ about her."

_That night:_

Dipper was in bed. Wide awake. Still thinking about Wendy Corduroy.

"Uh oh."

_-Gravity Falls theme-_

Gravity Falls Community College was nothing to brag about, but it wasn't bad. I mean sure, it was just in an old one room school house, and it didn't have central air conditioning or modern technology, but the student body had grown from five to fifteen, so there had to be an appeal. Either that or a few seniors just wanted to finally get their degree.

I wasn't having the easiest time making friends here. It probably had to do with the fact that I wasn't so outspoken or really had much in common with anyone else here. Except Simon Zealot, but we just happened to go to the same church.

"Hey Isannah!" called Simon from across the room. He was a junior, and taking a few summer courses to get more credits by next fall.

"What's up, Simon?" I asked, taking a seat in a desk the husky, freckly usher.

"I got my new car yesterday!"

"Really? Sweet!" I never found it hard to talk with Simon. Probably because he was as socially awkward as I was.

"Bud Gleeful drove a hard bargain, but it's finally mine."

"How much was it?"

"Why don't we find out?" Dr. Art Kameedis, our irrepressibly cheerful Algebra professor, was always able to sniff out an opportunity to make our lessons applicable to our lives. "Simon, why don't you come to the board and help refresh yesterday's lesson with the payments you had to make to your car."

Simon obliged. I stared at the board. Yesterday's equations and history terms were scribbled over in white chalk. It made me feel dry and thirsty seeing all that chalk dust. I reached for a water bottle I carried with me.

I thought back to yesterday, and how much the twins seemed to admire her. I was still miffed about it, too.

_Wonder how much fun the Pinecones and Wendy are having at the Shack without me._

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"Random dance party for no reason!" Mabel pressed the play button on a a tape player, and she and Wendy started dancing.

"Go, go, go, go," said Wendy in tune to the music. With nothing else to do in the Gift Shop, there was plenty of reason to party. She and Mabel continued singing their beat while Dipper stood off to the side, scribbling on a clipboard and watching them. Or more specifically, Wendy. On a paper on the clipboard he had written "I am pretending to write something down." Anything to make him seem busy. He thought it was clever.

"Dipper!" called Wendy.

Dipper jumped, flipping his clipboard in surprise. "Huh-uh-what? Yes? Yeah? " He caught it and hid it behind his back, laughing uncomfortably.

"Aren't ya gonna get in on this?" She was seated on a stool, snapping her fingers in beat to the music, while Mabel was on the register counter, dancing.

"I don't really dance," said Dipper with a flushed face.

"Yeah, you do!" exclaimed Mabel. She addressed Wendy. "Mom used to dress him up in a lamb costume and make him do …" her voice dropped to a whisper, "_the 'Lamby Dance.'_"

_"Now is not the time to talk about the 'Lamby Dance,'"_ said Dipper in a angry, harsh whisper.

"Lamb costume?" asked Wendy. "Whoa, is there like little ears and a tail or .. ?"

"Well, uh … uh ..." Dipper had no idea how to blow this over.

Mable pulled out a photo of Dipper as a young kid dressed in a lamb costume."Dipper would prance around and sing a song about grazing." Wendy turned to look at the picture, and Dipper made a zip-your-lip motion behind her to his sister.

A cuckoo clock on the wall behind them cooed six o'clock. "Hey, look at that," said Wendy. "Quittin' time!" She pulled off her name tag, pocketed it, and headed for the door. "The gang's waitin' for me."

"Hey! Wait!" Dipper called. "Uh, maybe I could – or _we_ could come with you." He would have preferred not to have his twin tag along, but he didn't want to make it seem obvious that he was trying to make himself look good for Wendy. The reveal of the 'Lamby Dance' put him back a few miles. He needed an opportunity to regain progress on his destination.

"Oooo, I don't know," said Wendy, as she stewed the thought over in her head. "My friends are _pretty_ intense. How old did you guys say you are?"

Dipper hesitated a moment, then said "We're thirteen! So, technically a teen."

"All right," said Wendy. "I like your moxie, kid! Let me get my stuff." She walked out, leaving the twins alone with one question.

"Since when are we thirteen?" whispered Mabel. "Is this a leap year?" she thought.

"Come on, Mabel!" Dipper griped. "This is our chance to hang out with, you know, the cool kids." He then mentioned another reason. "And Wendy and whatever."

"I knew it!" Mabel leaped over the counter in front of him. "You love her!" She danced around him while Dipper scowled. "Love, love, love love, love!"

"Oh hey, what's that?" Dipper pointed behind her.

"Huh?" Mabel turned around, and Dipper flipped her hair over her face. She spit through her curtain of hair, as some of it had gotten in her mouth. "So what are you gonna tell Grunkle Stan and Isannah?"

"Oh, we can't tell them!" said Dipper as she flipped her hair back behind her head. "Especially not Iz. She'll worry too much. She wouldn't want us to have fun because it might be 'dangerous' or 'illegal.' Besides, she'll be gone all evening at her college class. We'll probably be back before she'll even miss us." Dipper wished he sounded more certain of himself.

"Hey, guys! You comin' or what?" called Wendy.

"Whoo! Yeah! Part-aee!" whooped Mabel as she and Dipper followed her.

Outside, Wendy's friends were engaged in a mature game of ingenuity: throwing jellybeans at the chubby kid's bellybutton. The chubby kid was shirtless, and was held upside down by his ankles by two of his other friends, one tattooed, one blonde. A girl with dyed purple hair was recording a video of the silly game.

A jelly bean bounced off the kid's face. "Hurry up!" he said.

"In the belly! In the belly!" chanted his guy friends.

Another flying bean struck his stomach, and he groaned.

A kid with a guitar strapped around his shoulder boredly tossed a jellybean in his hand, then pulled back his arm,ready to throw. His friends continued to chant as he prepared to let it fly.

A jellybean shot through the air, and hit it's target: the bellybutton. Everyone cheered, but the guitar guy didn't throw it. Everyone turned to look behind, and saw Wendy reeling back from her perfect pitch.

The poor chubby kid was dropped on his head, and everyone else smiled and walked toward Wendy. "Wendy!" they said happily. "Wen-dy! Wen-dy!" chanted the tattoo guy.

"Hey, guys," approached Wendy with the twins. "These are my pals from work, Mabel and Dipper."

"I chewed my gum so it looks like a brain," said Mabel. She stuck out her tongue to show them her great accomplishment.

"She's not much for first impressions," Dipper pointed at her. "Unlike … this guy!" He pointed to himself.

No comments.

"This guy."

Still no comments.

But the guitar guy strummed his guitar and said, "So, are you, like, babysitting, or – "

Dipper frowned, and Wendy blew her lips. "Come on, Robbie! Guys," she addressed the twins, "this is Lee and Nate." She gestured to two of the guys. Nate punched a tattooed arm in Lee's gut, and Lee chuckled about it.

"... Tambry," Wendy pointed to the purple haired girl, texting away on her phone. "Huh," she waved, not looking away from the screen.

"... Thompson," Wendy gestured to the chubby kid, "who once ate a run-over waffle for fifty cents."

"Don't tell them that," Thompson complained.

"... and Robbie," pointed to the guitar guy, strumming his instrument. "You can probably figure him out."

"Yeah," he said in a bored tone. "I'm the guy who spray-painted the water tower."

"Oh!" said Dipper in recognition. "You mean the big muffin!"

"Um, it's a giant explosion," he said with some emotion.

Everyone looked up at the water tower in the near distance, with the red spray-painted picture on the side.

"Heh heh," chuckled Lee. "Kinda does look like a muffin." He and Nate laughed. Robbie glared at Dipper, and Dipper smiled weakly at him.

"Let's hurry it up, guys!" called Wendy stepping into the minivan that was parked behind her. "I got big plans for tonight, huh?"

Everyone cheered and crowded into the minivan, excited to have a night of fun. Dipper pulled the handle of the shotgun side of the front seat, but a pair of fingerless gloves closed it back. "Sorry, kid," said Robbie with a condescending smile. "I ride shotgun, all right?"

Dipper bit his lip nervously, and climbed into the back seat with Mabel.

Thompson turned the key into the ignition, and glanced behind him. "OK, just, before we go," he addressed his friends. "My mom says you guys aren't allowed to punch the roof anymore, so ..."

"Thompson! Thompson!" his friends chanted, punching the roof. Thompson just pulled the car out of the parking lot, and headed toward their destination.

Dipper was biting the end of a red marker. Mabel took it from his hand, because she say a message written on her door that she felt should be revised. She scribbled out the original message "YOU STINK!" and wrote "you look nice today" with a heart as the dot over the "i."

Mabel laughed. "This is gonna blow someone's mind."

"Mabel! Please!" nudged Dipper. He was totally nervous. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

"What?" she asked with a smile of mischief. "Am I embarrassing you in front of your new GIRLFRIE – " Dipper slapped a hand over her mouth before she could scream the rest of her sentence to everyone inside.

"Uh-ah!" He pulled back his hand in disgust. "Did you just _lick_ my hand?"

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"Lucy, I'm ho-ome!" I called upon entering the Mystery Shack that evening. I had watched _I Love Lucy_ last night on the Black And White Period Piece Old Lady Boring Movie Channel last night, and I felt it was an appropriate quote. Some shows are timeless. "One of my classes got canceled and I'm home early!" I added as I let my backpack slide down my back by the door. "Who wants to get some popcorn and watch a movie?"

I was met with silence. I knew it was Friday and people had stuff to do, but I also knew that at least one person would be around to greet me.

"Where is everybody?"I glanced in the living room, and found Stan slouching in the armchair, hoping for something good to come on TV.

"Stan, have you seen the twins?"

"Mmm," he shrugged.

"Where did they go?"

I searched around upstairs, and then in the kitchen, the dining room, the Gift Shop, the Museum, and outside on the grounds. But all I found were jellybeans and the imprint of someone's face and body in the dirt.

"What happened out here?" I asked myself, picking up a jellybean. "And why do I keep asking these questions out loud when I know no one will answer?"

_Maybe Soos would know where they went,_ I thought. _No, he left for the weekend. What about Wendy?_ I sent her a text, but I when I didn't get an immediate answer, I panicked a little. _Where are those guys?_ I usually played the part of the older sister, but my role was quickly becoming that of the mother concerned for her kids.

_Stan won't be of help, and no one's around to tell me anything useful. I have to go look for them myself._

I grabbed the Mystery Cart keys and headed down the hall for the door. While passing, I told Stan, "I'm going to look for Dipper and Mabel and bring them home. Don't lock the door on us!"

Stan didn't seem to hear. I just left him and headed on my journey to find his grand-nephew and grand-niece.

_I hope he's comfortable,_ I thought sarcastically. _And I _really_ hope that he finds the remote under the seat cushion in his chair._

Stan stared boredly at the screen.

"You're watching the Black And White Period Piece Old Lady Boring Movie Channel," said a TV announcer. Stan looked around the chair, but couldn't find the remote controller.

"Isannah!" he called. "I can't find the remote and I refuse to stand up!"

"Stay tuned for the Friday night movie, 'The Duchess Approves,' starring Sturly Stembleburgiss as 'The Duchess,' and Grampton St. Rumpterfrabble as irascible coxswain 'Saunterblugget Hampterfuppinshire.'"

"IZ!"

The title and opening scenes of the movie played on screen.

"NO! NOOOOOO!"

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The sun was asleep, and so were many businesses. But one of them was dead. And that was the one the teens and the twins wanted to break in.

They all stood outside the fence surrounding the compound, looking in on the Dusk 2 Dawn convenience store. The only glowing letter in the neon sign that spelled out the name above the store was the 'N' in 'Dawn.' With the cooling air and the mist rising from the black forest behind it, there was a foreboding sense of dark intentions throughout the compound.

"There it is, fellas," said Wendy. She faced Dipper. "The condemned Dusk 2 Dawn."

There were exclamations of awed wonder at the creepy rundown business.

"Neato!" said Mabel.

"W-w-why did they shut it down?" asked Dipper, not liking the looks of this joint. "Was it like a health code violation or – "

"Try _murder_," said Nate.

"Some folks died in there," added Lee. "The place has been haunted ever since."

"This town has such a colorful history!" said Mabel ecstatically.

"What?" asked Dipper. "A-are you guys serious?"

"Yeah! We're all gonna die!" exclaimed Wendy in mock fear. " Chill out, man." She threw a punch at Dipper's arm. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Dipper glanced up at a sign hooked to the fence above them. It read:

NO TRESSPASSING

VIOLATERS WILL

BE PROSECUTED

Except someone had spray-painted DEAD over the last word.

The fence had barbed wire running across the top, but it had been torn and pulled back by the front, and so there was a wide breach to climb along and over. Through there, everyone had gotten over the fence and inside the compound of the Dusk 2 Dawn. Everyone except for Lee, and Dipper.

"Come on, Dipper!" called Wendy.

Dipper was straddling the fence, and chuckled nervously. "OK. OK, just-just-just, uh, gotta get a foothold."

"Dude, your _sister_ did it," said Robbie, gesturing to Mabel. She ran on the ground sideways in circle, saying "Woop-woop-woop-woop-woop!"

Lee climbed on the fence beside him. "Hey! You know what? Just-" he grabbed Dipper under his arms, lifted him off the fence, and dropped him on the property- "there you go."

Dipper's had went flying off his head, and he landed hard on his back.

Lee laughed above him on the fence. "S-sorry, dude." He leaped off, and landed feet-first near him.

"Good job throwing the kid off the fence, genius," said Nate.

"You're mom's a genius!" countered Lee.

Dipper picked himself and hat off the ground, knowing this wasn't a brag-worthy moment with the "cool kids."

They all headed to the front of the store, and Robbie tried to yank the doors open, but they refused to budge.

Wendy peered through the windowpane into the dark building. "Hw-whoa-oa-oa. This place is amazing!"

"I think it's-it's stuck," said Robbie.

"Let me take a crack at it," offered Dipper confidently.

"Oh yeah," condescended Robbie. "I can't get in, but I'm sure that Junior here is gonna break it down like Hercules."

"Come on," defended Wendy. "Leave him alone. He's just a little kid."

Dipper's heart sank.

But he was determined to keep it floating. He would prove himself to these guys. To Wendy.

Gathering his moxie, he headed to the back of the building, climbed atop a Dumpster, and hopped unto the roof. Everyone watched with uncertain feelings.

"Whoa, kid! _What are you doing_?" called Tambry.

Dipper didn't hear them. He found an air vent that lead unto the roof. He yanked at the grate cover, but it didn't give, so he he tried to shove against it with his shoulder. Then he gave it a hard punch, and it flew inward.

"Go, Dipper!" cheered Mabel. "Punch that metal thing!" He disappeared from view, and Wendy started to get nervous.

"Hey, Dipper!" she called. "Take it easy."

"Who wants to bet he doesn't make it?" asked Robbie.

Dipper then walked out the front door, and gestured for everyone to come inside. There were exclamations of cheer following Dipper's feat as everyone filed in.

"Good call inviting this little maniac," commented Lee.

Tambry continued to text with a smile on her face.

"Your new name is Dr. Funtimes," Nate told Dipper.

"Alright!" said Mabel.

"Cool!" said Thompson.

Dipper high-fived Mabel as she entered

Robbie just rolled his eyes as he walked in.

"Nice work," Wendy punched Dipper approvingly.

With renewed confidence, Dipper followed in after the teens.

Inside, everything was dark, and anticipation and excitement was in everyone's minds.

"Do you guys really think it's haunted?" asked Thompson.

"Sheeya- Nah!" replied Lee. "Thompson are you kidding me? Come on, shut up, man."

But while they awed over the inside of the condemned business or joked about the possibility of poltergeists, the "OPEN" sign on the door flipped over to "CLOSED" of it's own accord.

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	16. Ch15: The Inconveniencing: A Haunting

Chapter 16: The Inconveniencing: A Haunting

The Dusk 2 Dawn was awing it's first set of customers and trespassers in decades. The group of teens and preteens whispered sounds of amazement as they took in the atmosphere of the disused establishment. Cobwebs stretched across the dark corners, and spiders crawled nimbly among trash and forgotten merchandise. The whole store was coated in dust, as if it were frost freezing it in time. The group broke up and began to explore, Dipper walking down an aisle with Wendy and Robbie.

"Whoa-ho-oh, man! It's creepier than I imagined," said Wendy. With expired food products and the only living things other than them being the spiders, no one else could disagree.

In another aisle, Mabel wiped her finger across a "Take A Penny" holder by the cashier counter. She brought the the dusty finger to her lips, and tasted it. "Yep," she confirmed. "It's dust."

Dipper found a newspaper rack, and pulled out a copy of _USA Newz_. He wiped the dust away, revealing the issued date as May 2, 1995.

Lee and Nate wandered in another aisle nearby. "Hey, dude," said Lee. "Where do you think they keep the dead bodies?"

"Heh-heh, shut up, man," Nate shoved him.

"Guys!" called Wendy. "Check it out!" She stood by a series of light switches next to an ATM machine. "You think these still work?" She flipped all three of them on, and a low whirring sound hummed in the air. The iced soda machine flickered on and off intermittently, and a TV set displaying black and white footage from a security camera was currently taping them. The ceiling lights flickered stubbornly, then washed the dusty convenience store in brightness.

The teens all breathed words of amazement at their luck.

"Jackpot," said Mabel.

"So, what are we gonna do now?" Dipper asked Wendy.

"Anything we want," she replied.

The twins smiled, and the fun commenced.

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_I should never have allowed them to climb the roof. You give them an inch, and they go AWOL. We couldn't go an entire_ week_ without something going wrong, now could we? _

I was angry with the twins. It was after twilight; I was tired, thirsty, I didn't really _need_ to go on a wild goose chase. If they were going anywhere, the least they have done was leave me a note telling me where they were gonna go. I had made the same mistake a few times in middle school. I finally understood how my parents felt.

I was angry not entirely because of the inconvenience though. I was more frightened that every worst case scenario that could happen, did happen. With child predatory gnomes crawling in the woods and Gideon's vow still echoing in my mind, my instincts and paranoia were on high alert. _What if something worse than what we've encountered so far happened to them? But what could _possibly_ be worse or more traumatic than what's already happened?_ I stepped on the gas, and prayed that I didn't just jinx myself.

I circled around another empty street downtown. For the fifth time in a row. I wasn't sure what to expect, the businesses all closed at six, some earlier than others. The only ones still open were a couple restaurants open for the Friday night flux, but I could just look through the windows and know they weren't there. I knew the signs of a Pines. _So why can't I find them anywhere?_

I steered the golf cart out of the main street and onto a street leading out to more rundown neighborhood. All of Gravity Falls was rundown, but this area was more rundown than that (which should be a sign to turn around and drive somewhere else). _Please don't be down here. Please don't be down here. Please don't be down here. Please don't be … _

As I paused at a stop sign, I checked the gas gauge. The needle was at half-empty. I wasn't feeling hopeful enough to call it half-full.

_Maybe I got a text back from Wendy._ I reached for my cell phone in my pocket. It was empty. I reached for my other pocket. Same story. I reached into a back pocket. This story was getting old fast. I tried the other. Then proceeded to face-palm. _I left it at the Shack?! Brilliant, Isannah. Just _brilliant_._

I drove past the stop sign, heading out of the intersection. I huffed a cranky breath. _Those two had better show soon._ _Where _are_ they? They're so stupid. Why couldn't they tell me somehow where they were so I wouldn't have to worry – _

The cart bounced and nearly threw me out my seat. I hit the brakes, took several shallow breaths, and glanced back to see what I hit. A pothole. Whew. I hit the accelerator, but I realized that the cart felt lopsided. Oh no. I parked on the shoulder, and checked the right side of the cart.

_You've got. To be. Freaking. Kidding. Me._ Two flat tires. No spares. I don't know whether to laugh at my terrible chances, or to scream with rage and kick the vehicle.

I fell to my knees and sobbed.

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The teens went to town on the snacks layered on the shelves. They split up into two teams, and had Dipper sit on Lee's shoulders, throwing water balloons at the opposing team, while Mabel sitting on Wendy's shoulders doing the same for their team. Lee and Nate took bags of cat litter and threw the bags at each other's guts, and later they all gathered around in a circle as Nate popped three mints into a liter bottle of Pitt Cola, it exploded into a soda fountain, and everyone cheered.

Mabel ran happily from the aisle around a corner, but stopped short. In front of her, was a series of shelves draped with tape that said "DO NOT SELL" and also holding a product that she thought was extinct.

"Oh-my-gosh!" She exclaimed. "Smile Dip!" She picked up one of the candies and gazed at the wrapper featuring the candy's mascots Das Flavor Pups. "I thought this stuff was banned in America!"

"Maybe they had a good reason," said her twin.

Someone threw another water balloon at him, and Dipper took off to return the favor. Mabel took a candy stick that came in the package, and dipped it in the candy sugar. But instead of eating the sugar on the stick, she dumped the whole package of sugar into her mouth.

Dipper and Wendy sat at the top of a shelf, licking Neapolitan ice cream pops.

"Hey come here man!" called Nate to Thompson. "We got it ready!"

"Whatever it is, I'll do it!" he called back, running to partake in another game of theirs.

Wendy laughed, and cheered "Thompson!" She turned to her companion. "Dipper, this night is, like, legendary."

Dipper was surprised but pleased with the compliment."Really?"

"Just look around! The guys are bonding." She gestured to Nate and Robbie, who were dumping a whole bag of ice down Thompson's pants. "I've never even seen Tambry look up from her phone this long." She gestured at Tambry, who paused in her texting to look up for a second, and then began texting again. "And your sister seems to be going nuts for that Smile Dip." She waved a hand over at Mabel, who was sprinkled with sugar, and looking sick after consuming a whole box of the expired candy.

"Aaa-uuuugh … maybe I've had too much," she mumbled. She turned and looked beside her."What do _you_ think?"

– Mabel was no longer in the Dusk 2 Dawn. She was in a world of bright colors and happy pop music. There were sugar hills and a river of saliva streaming along by tongue banks. She was speaking to an enormous Flavor Pup, who replied back in a unrecognized language. Another larger Flavor Pup hopped on a tongue on the opposite bank and asked her, "Would you like to eat my candy paws?"

"Of course, you little angel," replied Mabel, taking the offered paw, and munching on the sugar-induced hallucination. –

Dipper and Wendy just saw her pupils dilate as she munched on open air.

"You know, Dipper?" said Wendy. "I wasn't sure if you could hang with our crew at first, but you're surprisingly mature for your age."

"Yes," said Dipper in a serious tone. "Yes, I am." He kept his eyes on her and tried to look cool and aim his melting ice cream pop in his mouth, but got it on his face instead. He tried to get it in his mouth again, and again, and again.

"Hey guys!" called Lee. "We need more ice!" He was shaking the remnants of the ice bag in Thompson's shorts.

"I'm on it!" volunteered Dipper. He leaped off the shelf, and headed over to an ice freezer. He pulled out a bag of ice, feeling cool as a cucumber.

… until he saw the floating brain, eyes, mouth, and nerves inside the freezer. The eyes stretched their optic nerves out towards Dipper, who screamed and hurriedly shoved the door shut, spilling the ice from the bag on the tiled floor.

Panting, he reluctantly decided to take a second look. He reached slowly towards the latch on the door of the freezer, opened the door –

… and found nothing but bags of ice. Dipper was dumbfounded.

"What was that?" asked Lee. "I thought I heard some lady screaming back here." He and the other teens gathered by Dipper to see what the cause of his shrill screaming was for.

"You freakin' out, kid?" asked Nate.

"Eh-he-he-uh, no. No, I'm cool," said Dipper uneasily. "Everything's cool."

"Then what's all this about?" Robbie asked, pointing to the spilled ice.

"Oh! That's, uh … eh, heh …" Dipper gave a false gasp. "Hey look! Dancy Pants Revolution! The game that tricks people into exercising!" He pointed to the dancing game near the entrance to the store. The teens took the bait and ran over to try the game.

"Huh-huh- Yeah!" cheered Dipper. "Let's all – let's all go play that." He glanced behind him at the freezer, then ran to join the group.

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I wiped my eyes, trying to dry my face and figure out what to do now. I didn't have it in me to pray. At the moment, it seemed that either God was ignoring me or laughing at me. Anything but helping me.

"What am I going to do? I don't have a cell, don't know where the twins are, don't have help, it's getting dark, _I'm_ getting scared, I don't know what to do!" I kicked at one of the flat tires. It did nothing to satisfy my frustration. "Where am I gonna find help now?"

Behind me, I heard a vehicle coming down the road. I heard it's brakes squeak as it paused by me. I turned around, and saw Simon behind the wheel of his newly bought tow truck. To me, it was a chariot driven by an angel.

"Isannah? What's up? Something happen to your cart?"

"Simon! Yes! I popped two tires, and I'm trying to find Dipper and Mabel. Please help me! I'll pay you whatever it's worth, just – "

"Whoa! Whoa! Iz, I'll help you – I'll help you! I just need to hook it up, and I can drag it behind the truck while we go get them. Where are they at?"

"I have no idea. That's why I'm freaking out."

He went to work bringing the hook under the fender of the cart, and headed back to the driver's seat to press the lever that would lift it. "Did you try to call them?"

"They don't have cell phones. And I did try texting one their friends earlier, but I didn't get a response, and I left my cell phone behind, and they didn't tell me where they were going, and I'm going out of my mind – "

"Iz!" He slammed the door to the driver's seat shut to get my attention. I blushed self-consciously. I sounded like a blubbering idiot and a worried mother.

"Get in and tell me on the way." He opened the door again, and climbed back in. I followed suit.

"Lucky I found you, huh?"

"Simon, you're an answer to prayer. I love you."

"Really?"

"Find the twins for me, and I might kiss you."

"I think can live with that kind of payment."

"Don't expect that to turn into a thing though."

"Awww, can't it?"

"I'm not flirting with you, you know."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Just shut up and drive."

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"Dance! Hurry up," the Dancy Pants Revolution voice over warned Thompson. Nate and Lee cheered "Go! Go! Go! Go!" as Thompson struggled to reach a higher score. Tambry and Robbie watched unamused, while Wendy continued to be a happy spectator.

"Wow! He's really terrible at this," said Wendy, elbowing Dipper.

Dipper chuckled nervously. He was only half-watching. "Yeah. Yeah, that's – that's great." His face turned to shock.

In the floor to ceiling windows and doors, Tambry's, Robbie's, Wendy's, dancing Thompson's, and Dipper's reflections looked back at him.

In skeletonized forms.

Dipper couldn't believe what he saw. He rubbed his eyes, frantically hoping this wasn't real, and when he looked back, the reflections were back to flesh and blood. Back to normal. Back to sanity.

"I'll be right back," Dipper said to no one in particular. He had no idea what the heck was up with this joint, but he wanted out. Immediately.

He dialed the pay phone at the other side of the room, trying to reach the Mystery Shack.

"Come on, Grunkle Stan, pick up!" he muttered impatiently. "Ugh! What is he doing?!"

The phone was clanging on the table, but no one was home. Mentally speaking.

"I don't care about dukes or commoners, or his royal highness Lionel of Cornwall!" said a feminine voice from the TV in the living room. Stan, absorbed by the black-and-white emotional confrontational scene, reached for his carton of ice cream.

"I'm not afraid anymore, Mother!" continued the young Duchess.

"Duchess, I forbid you," replied her mother.

Stan began spooning ice cream into mouth as the climax loomed.

"I may be a duchess," said Duchess with tears in her eyes. "But I'm also a woman!" She removed her hat and her hair blew dramatically in the wind.

"Yes! Yeees!" cheered Stan. "In your face, Elizabeth!" He started to cry. "It's just like my life! … In a way."

Dipper abandoned the phone and searched for Mabel. He found her by the Smile Dip shelf.

"Mabel! I need your advice. We're hanging out in a haunted convenience store, I can't get a hold of Grunkle Stan, and if I try to say anything about it to any of _these_ guys, they'll just think I'm a scared little kid or something!"

Mabel couldn't respond. She was gargling on sugar, foaming pink bubbles on her chin, and there was an unnatural green color in her eyes.

"Mabel … ?" asked Dipper apprehensively.

– "The future is in the past! Onward, Aoshima!" Mabel ordered her means of transportation.

She rode a dolphin with muscled arms wearing a bow tie, who proceeded to stretch his arms, spin his upper body like a top, and have a second head appear opposite his first one. The heads opened their mouths, where two more arms stretched out, opened their fists, revealing a pair of eyes and a mouth in each one that also opened and spewed rainbow lasers and a car alarm noise as they flew across the music blaring sky. –

"Mabel!" Dipper was now shaking her by the shoulders, trying to reach her from the cosmos of her Smile Dip hallucinations. "How many of these did you eat?!"

"Buh-leven … teen," she spluttered.

"Oh man. Oh man, oh man, oh man." Dipper dropped his sister. If Isannah found Mabel in this condition, he would be in trouble.

Robbie was by the front counter, scratching a lottery ticket with a quarter and chuckling a bit to himself. Until the quarter slipped from his hand. He followed it as it rolled off the counter and then down a dark aisle. He reached for it, but paused.

"Whoa guys. You might want to see this."

The teens all gathered around by him, and saw the chalked outlines of the deceased owners.

They all started talking at once.

"Whoa," said Lee. "Then the rumors _are _true."

Dipper swallowed a lump of fear that a lodged itself in his throat.

"Dude, dare ya to lie down in it," Robbie said to Lee.

"Good idea," replied Lee. He elbowed Nate. "Go lie down in it." He willingly obliged.

"Huh! I'm a dead body, look!" Dipper felt his insides clench as Nate walked into the aisle, and raised a foot to cross the line.

"Wait!" Dipper jumped. Nate halted in his tracks, and Dipper turned to the group of now disappointed teens."Maybe, let's not do that."

"This guy's scared!" taunted Lee.

"All I'm saying is," Dipper reasoned. "Why tempt the fates? I mean – what if this place … really is … haunted?"

This question was followed by booing and peer pressure.

"Eh, just take it down a notch, Captain Buzzkill," said Robbie.

Dipper's resolve quickly dissolved. "But I thought I was Dr. Funtimes."

"Well, you're acting like Captain Buzzkill. Right?" he asked the other teens. They nodded their agreement, and even Wendy admitted "Yeah. Little bit."

Dipper sighed, knowing he had disappointed the one person he hoped to impress this whole evening.

Tambry continued to type away on her phone. "'Status update: trapped in store with _insane_ nine-year-old.'"

That was the deciding factor for Dipper. "I am not a nine-year-old!" With indignation, he backed up to one of the chalked outlines, and flopped down. "I'm _thirteen_! Technically, a teen!"

As he spoke, a green light like neon zipped along the outline he lay in, coaxing exclamations from the teen group. The light flowed from the top of the outline's head, until it reached all the way back, and glowed brightly. The ceiling lights flickered. The power went out. Tambry gasped, and disappeared like evaporated fog. Her phone clattered to the floor, and everyone gasped in horror. Dipper picked up the phone.

"'Status update,'" he read. "'Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!'"

They all heard the surveillance TV sizzle to life, and saw Tambry. Balck and white footage, looking about her in confused terror, screaming and pounding the screen. Trapped.

"SCREAM!"

No one was arguing with Dipper now.

SDUDQRLG SHRSOH VDYH OLYHV.

"... and then I hit a pothole and got stranded on the shoulder."

"Glad that I thought to drive out tonight. I was hoping to find some business maybe from someone coming home from work. I mean, I wasn't hoping that someone would pop a tire or anything, that's a terrible thing to hope for, but I guess was … uh … I don't know. Forget I said anything."

"Why would they pull a stunt like this? I thought I wouldn't need to explicitly tell them 'Don't go missing without a trace,' but I guess they have no common sense to see that it's a bad idea. Maybe I should have told them not to do this. Maybe I should have been home earlier, and this wouldn't have happened. Maybe I – "

"Iz, you can't blame yourself for their actions."

"But how can I know that they weren't acting stupid?"

"Maybe this wasn't their fault. Maybe it was something entirely out of their control."

"You're right … they could've been kidnapped. That makes me feel _so_ much better."

"Did you call the police about this yet? Maybe they could help."

"The cops don't take me seriously. They would think that I my hair grew so long it got tangled in my brain."

"Well, maybe if I called them, they would listen. You can dial them up for me and – "

"Simon, wait! Can you slow down by this fence?" On the other side of a rusty chain-link fence rolling with barbed wire at the top, was an old convenience store. The electricity in the joint must have been on the fritz, because it kept flickering undecidedly. "What's this place?"

"The Dusk 2 Dawn. Why are the lights on?"

"Is it supposed to be closed?"

"More than that. It's supposed to be shut down."

"What?"

"The couple that owned this place passed away like twenty years ago, and the business closed shop. Local legend says the place is haunted, but no one's gone inside to prove it."

A dead business that seemed to be coming to life. My Pines detector was beeping. It's at least worth investigating.

"Stop the truck."


	17. Ch16:The Inconveniencing:Sacrifical Lamb

Chapter 17: The Inconveniencing: A Sacrificial Lamb

Everyone watched in petrified terror as Tambry screamed and pounded against the inside of the TV screen.

"Tambry!" called Wendy. "Tambry!"

"Can you hear us?" called Dipper.

Tambry pressed her face against the screen, frightened out of her mind.

Dipper regretted calling Stan to avoid calling Isannah now. If he lived to see tonight, Dipper knew she was gonna kill him. But at the moment, he was more afraid of what monster they were facing now.

_Meanwhile:_ "Hurry, Simon!" I called, already climbing the fence. "That's a van! Someone _is_ here! Hurry!"

"What are we supposed to do?!" Nate asked Lee inside the Dusk 2 Dawn.

"I don't know man!" his friend replied, voice shrill with fear. "I don't _know_!"

"Let's just go already!" said Robbie.

"Thompson!" Wendy called. He was still playing the Dancey Pants Revolution game, unaware that most of the electricity was out and it was the only electric appliance on. Or the fact that one of his friends just got kidnapped by ghosts.

"Wait!" he called back as he hopped. "I've almost got the high score!" The music that was playing on the game slowed, and Thompson stopped in mid-hop. He screamed as he evaporated into the dusty air.

_Meanwhile:_ "The electricity's gone out!" Simon called from the top of the fence.

"No, there's still something on inside," I said, racing to the store window. It looked some sort of video arcade game designed to trick people into exercising. I heard someone scream, and saw the player of the game vanish. I almost stopped in shock, but saw a couple of familiar faces. I wished now that I never hoped to find them _here_.

"Huh? What?" Thompson found himself inside Dancey Pants Revolution.

"It's time to shake what your mama gave you!" commanded the game. The music started up again.

"Oh no!" Thompson tried to dodge the colorful arrows that scrolled speedily down the screen, but some nailed him on the back. He crawled on his belly miserably across the screen. "Oof! So many arrows!" As he tried to crawl away, more rained on him.

"You're a dance machine!" complimented the game.

"No! _You're_ a dance machine!" retorted Thompson, curling into the fetal position and clamping his hands over his ears. He cried pathetically as more arrows pierced him like a dart board.

"Oh no!" exclaimed Dipper.

"Thompson!" cried Wendy.

"Forget him!" said Robbie. "Let's go!"

"Dipper! Wendy! Come on!" I threw the doors open, waiting for them to rush out...

The doors slammed shut.

Wendy ran over and tried the door on the inside. "What the – Guys, it's _locked_!" I heard her shout. "No!" I punched the door desperately. "Dipper! Mabel!"

I threw myself against the door, hoping my bulk might cause it to give. But that was when I heard "Outta my way!" Robbie grabbed the disused cash register, and hurled it at the glass doors. Simon and I braced for flying shards of glass, but it harmlessly disappeared through the doors in a flash of buzzing light. A green light flowed from the glass doors and fell over Robbie. He screamed, and the rest of the group watched in terror. Nothing horrific happened to him. But nothing good either. No one was completely brave enough or certain in their mind about what to do.

_Meanwhile:_ "I can't bust open the doors!" I exclaimed in frightened frustration. _Dipper's in danger! What am I gonna do?! What am I gonna do?! WhatamIgonnado?!_

"I'm calling the cops!" Simon dialed his phone.

"There has to be another way in there! This place couldn't have been closed and just left unlocked all these years waiting for someone to break in."

"Everybody, wait!" commanded Dipper, removing the Journal from his vest. "Whoever's doing this must have some kind of reason." He flipped through the pages, coming upon a page that spoke about ghosts. "Maybe if we could just figure out what it is, then they'll let us out of here."

"'Uh, they'll let us out of here,'" mimicked Robbie. "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense!"

"I don't know, guys," defended Wendy. "Maybe he's got a point!"

"Yeah, right," replied Lee sarcastically. "I'm sure the ghost wants to talk about his feelings." He floated in the air above their heads, dissolved with a scream, and found himself …

… inside of a bowl on the front cover of a cereal box with his name printed on it, and a toucan mascot pouring milk in the bowl.

"I'm bonkers for eating you _alive_!" the toucan said, raising the spoon.

"Nooo!" Lee screamed in horror as the toucan stabbed him with the eating utensil.

"Lee!" cried Nate. He backtracked a bit, trying to hard not to loose his mind. "OK, OK." He removed his hat, and wiped sweat from his brow. "I'm with you, kid! One hundred percent, man!"

"Welcome," said a deep, masculine voice behind him. Everyone else left in the store screamed.

"They got Mabel!" exclaimed Dipper. I stared through the glass doors. Mouth agape.

My mind went blank.

Then kicked into overdrive. _There'snowaythisishappeningaghostjustpossessedMabelthisisfreakinginsaneI'vegottostopthisnowbuthowwhereareyouGodIcouldreallyuseyourhelprightnow..._

Mabel glowed and floated under the possession of a dead spirit. Her eyes glowed with an inner ghostly light.

"Welcome to your graves, young trespassers," said the voice through Mabel. He kicked his legs like the giddy girl he possessed, and laughed at their misfortune.

"We're super sorry for hanging out in your store!" apologized Wendy fearfully.

"Yeah!" agreed Dipper. He gesticulated to the front doors. "Can we just go now, and leave forever?"

The spirit inside Mabel paused, as if to think. "Well … OK. You're free to go."

The front doors dinged open. I almost melted with relief.

"But before you leave," continued possessed Mabel, floating to the food counter, "Hotdogs are now half off. I know it might be crazy, but you gotta try these dogs!"

Nate and Robbie screamed as they made a beeline for the open doors. They slammed shut and the teens hit them with a splat. "What?! NOOOO!" I screamed outside.

"Just kidding about the hot dog sale!" said the angry ghost.

This ghost was playing sick games on Dipper, Mabel, and everyone else inside. I felt my heart boil with fury. "Simon, what's taking the cops so long?"

He was yelling at someone through his cell phone, and getting more agitated with each sentence. "Listen, I'm not pulling a prank here! There is a legit ghost trapping kids inside the Dusk 2 Dawn! One of them got trapped inside a box cereal! ... I'm serious! … Come on, man, you can't make this stuff up!"

I was so agitated I started pacing, and making a circuit around the entire store building. Racking my brains trying to find a solution. _All right, all right, calm down, Iz. Think this through. They had to have gotten in there somehow, and using the front door seems unlikely. Where else could they have gotten – _That was when I spotted the open vent on the roof, leading inside the haunted store.

Meanwhile: Nate was no longer scared. He was furious. Robbie could barely restrain him as he yelled at Mabel. "Just let us out of here already!"

"I don't like your tone." The ghost made Mabel's eyes glow, and Nate floated from Robbie's arms up to the ceiling, and disappeared. He made a reappearance in the hot dog turner.

"What? No! I'm a hotdooooog!" He spun on the turner in his miserable and embarrassing state.

"It begins," said possessed Mabel. She floated, and the whole store began to shake and items began to levitate. Including Dipper and the remaining teens.

Dipper felt a sense of vertigo come over him. He got up, and just missed being hit by Tambry's TV. The freezer crashed and spilled ice across the ceiling tiles, and Wendy got hit by a small bag of potato chips. Every loose item fell to the ceiling. The ghosts had flipped the center of gravity!

"Welcome to your home for all eternity," said possessed Mabel.

"Dipper, what do we do?!" cried Wendy desperately.

"Duck!" he cried as the ice soda machine came flying toward them. They narrowly avoided it by falling to the ceiling.

"Quick! In there!" she pointed to an open cabinet. Items began to soar and shoot about like cannon balls over a battlefield. They ran across the ceiling, dived inside the cabinet, and Wendy slammed it shut behind them.

The ghost laughed at the teens' fear, but paused as he heard a sound bumping along inside the vent on the ceiling.

I crawled out, disoriented. "Owww... What happened? It feels like the earth shifted or– " I found myself standing on the ceiling. "Oh."

"Another intruder?" The ghost was confused. And very angry. "Coming here tonight will be your last folly, child!" The poltergeist levitated me off the ceiling, and I could already feel myself begin to fade.

I didn't know what was gonna happen, but I was frightened out of my mind. Not thinking straight, I spluttered, "But I'm not a child!"

Store items fell back to the ceiling. When the ghost paused, I felt relieved. But my heart started over-beating again. It could still imprison me some other way.

"How old are you then?" possessed Mabel asked skeptically.

"... Nineteen?"

The ghost didn't say anything at first, as if thinking. "Well … all right. I won't imprison you."

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I sighed. "So, can I take Dipper and the girl you're possessing against her will and get the heck out of here, please?"

"I never said that." Mabel's eyes glowed again, and the fallen items of merchandise and store equipment floated in the air. Some circled around Mabel in a ring, while others came flying towards me. The ghost laughed as I gave a short scream.

I ran across the ceiling, playing dodgeball with a possessed child. I couldn't pause to think, or I could be hit with something lethal.

Meanwhile: Dipper and Wendy panted after racing for their lives. "What do they want from us?!" cried Wendy.

"Revenge, I guess?" replied Dipper.

"What did we do wrong?"

"OK, let's try to figure out a pattern here. Why was each person taken? Tambry was texting, Thompson was playing a video game, Lee was being sarcastic; it doesn't make any sense!" His forehead fell to his folded arms in hopelessness.

"Yeah! I mean, those are all normal teenage things."

Dipper's face piped back up. "Wendy, say that last part again."

"'Normal teenage things?'"

"_Of course._ Stay here until I get back." He kicked open the door of the cabinet, and crawled out. "Dude! What are you doing?!" called Wendy.

Dipper crawled on his belly until he got to a considerable distance from Mabel's possessed body. She was the center of orbiting food products and electric appliances, throwing the same items at Isannah, who was now being piled under stale store merchandise. He stood to his feet.

"Hey, ghost!" he called to his sister.

Mabel's head turned a hundred eighty degrees around to face Dipper, and her body followed suit. Mabel's eyes glowed, and Dipper levitated off the ground.

"I've got something to tell you!" Dipper continued.

While store products continued to spin in an orbital ring around Mabel's possessed body, Dipper floated up to break the news to the ghost.

"I'm _not_ a teenager!"

The ghostly light left Mabel's eyes, and Dipper and the circling products fell to the ceiling.

Dipper looked up. Mabel had regained possession of herself. An elderly ghost man was holding Mabel by her hair like a puppet. His name tag read "Pa." His wife, "Ma," floated next to him.

"Ha, ho, ho, ho," Pa laughed. "Well, why didn't you say so?" He released Mabel, and she fell with a yelp into of the pile of outdated merchandise, on top of Isannah's head. "Owwww..." I groaned again.

Pa and his wife were much more cordial now. "How old did you say you were?" he asked.

"I'm … " Dipper glanced back over at Wendy, and found that he couldn't look at her when he had to face the truth. "I'm twelve. Technically not a teen."

After shoving Mabel's hair of out my face, I faced the ghosts. "What does it matter if he's a teen or not?"

"When we were alive," said Ma, "teenagers were a scourge on our store."

"Always sassafrassin' customers with their boomy boxes and disrespectful short pants," added Pa. "So, we decided to up and ban them, but they retaliated with this new-fangled 'rap' music."

"The lyrics … they were so, _hateful_!"

– The two of them flashed back to that day when a group of teens from the 90's had showed up in their parking lot, blasting a rap song and dancing to the lyrics: "Homework's whack,and so are rules! Tuckin' in your shirt's for fools!"

"NNNOOOOO!" cried Pa. –

"It was so shocking, we were stricken down with double heart attacks," narrated Ma. "That's why we hate teenagers so much," she said, brightly. "Don't we, honey?" She and her husband gave each other Eskimo kisses. _Oh. I'm nineteen, so technically I'm an _adult_. But I'm also a teen, so I _still _got punished. (_This is why the ages of eighteen and nineteen are so awkward.)

"But, they're my friends," Dipper told Pa. "Isn't there anything I can do to help them?"

"There is one thing," said Pa. "Do you know any funny little dances?"

"Uh … is there anything _else _I can do?"

Pa burst into flames. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"OK OK OK! Um … well … I do know … the Lamby-Lamby Dance … but, uh – but I can't really do it without a lamb costume." He smiled, glad to get out of embarrassing himself.

But with a snap of his fingers, Pa had Dipper dressed up in a lamb costume, the bane of his childhood.

"Oh. Well. There it is," Dipper said.

He took a breath, preparing himself for the most mortifying moment of his life.

"Weeeeel … who wants a lamby, lamby, lamby?

"'I do! I do!'

"So, go up and greet your mammy, mammy, mammy!

"'Hi there! Hi there!'"

While he sang, Pa growled, "Yes. _Yes!_ More! _More!_"

"So march, march, march around the daisies!

"Don't, don't, don't you forget about the babies!" He touched a finger to his cheek, and winked as he finished.

"That was some fine girly dancin', boy," approved Pa. "Your friends are free." The front doors reopened, and Dipper was restored to his normal attire.

"Well, I don't think you have to worry about us coming back," assured Dipper. "So … " But the ghosts had vanished.

The electricity came back on in the whole store. Me, Dipper, Wendy, Mabel, and all the appliances and merchandise fell painfully to the floor as gravity – _literally_ – fell. The other teens that had been taken were back to their normal selves and were crawling from their prisons.

"Dipper!" I rushed at him, and squeezed him till I feared that I would break his back.

"Hey, Iz," he said, voice tight from my crushing embrace. "Good to see you safe, too."

"You didn't get hurt, did you? Were you injured? Possessed? Traumatized?"

"Yes, but other than that, I'm fine. I'm sorry we left without telling you where we were. Are you mad?"

"I was just scared out of my mind wondering what happened to you guys. But I'm glad that you're safe." I squeezed him again. "Wait?" he replied. "So, you're gonna like, tell Stan or have us … punished?"

"After what you had to go through tonight, I'd say it's punishment enough. Besides, I'm not your mother. That kind of jurisdiction is outside of my contract." We chuckled.

Nearby, Mabel sat up with a groan. "I'm never gonna eat or do anything ever again," she said sickly.

Dipper glanced at the floor, and saw an open pack of Smile Dip. He picked it off the floor. "Hey, there's still some left."

"EVIL!" His sister slapped it from his hand.

I picked up the packet of candy myself, and read the label. "Oh no. You ate Smile Dip? I remember this stuff when I was younger. It did_ not _make me smile." Mabel groaned again, and rolled sickly to the floor. "This is why you don't eat illegal substances. It opens you up to the influence of dark powers." I left them where they were, and stepped outside to find Simon.

"For the twentieth-third time – whatever, twenty-_sixth_ time – _I'm telling the truth_! Just get over here, please! Someone's gonna get hurt if you don't – wait, Steve is going to fit an entire _what_ in his mouth? Hello? Hello? Augh! Lot of help they were." He gave an exasperated sigh as he closed turned off his cell phone.

I poked his shoulder. "We don't need them, anyway, Simon. Everyone's fine."

"Iz? Where'd you go? What happened?"

"Let's let these guys explain." I lead us back inside.

The teens had gathered in a crescent around Wendy, sitting cross-legged and all wondering the same question that Lee asked: "What – what happened after everything went crazy?"

"You are not going to_ believe_ it!" exclaimed Wendy. "The ghosts appeared, and Dipper had to … " She gestured at Dipper, but paused.

"Uh … and uh, Dipper just grabbed a bat, and started beating ghosts down, left and right!" The teens were on their feet, eating up every word. Lee and Nate slapped a high five, while Tambry, Robbie, and Thompson listened in awe.

"And then the ghosts got all scared, and ran away like a couple of little girls," she finished. "It was _insane._"

"No way!"

"Dr. Funtimes!"

Dipper smiled appreciatively. She turned back to him, and sealed her lips and threw away the key. He copied the gesture in agreement.

I already figured out what lead to all this. Wendy was obviously the ringleader of this gang of teenage delinquents. They all listened to her and took her for her word. Dipper and Mabel must have too. You couldn't miss the stars in Dipper's eyes when he looked at her. These two must have treated her like a big sister and felt special that she would bring them to hang with the "big kids."

I felt betrayed. _That's _my_ job._

"Come on, guys," I said, wrangling Dipper and Mabel towards the door. "We're going home. Let's get the truck started, Simon."

"I don't have enough seats to accommodate that many people, Iz" Simon said.

Unfortunately, I knew that left only one alternative.

"We'll get these guys home safely," Wendy assured me, approaching behind the twins. "I promise, nothing _crazy_ will happen on the way home. Don't worry. I'm not driving." I deadpanned. It was the face that expressed my anger and displeasure.

Reluctantly, I said, "Fine. But we're gonna follow closely behind you guys until you stop at the Mystery Shack. No rest stops."

"Absolutely, ma'am," saluted Wendy, and she and the rest of her friends all gather at the van.

And somewhere in my mind, I knew that as irresponsible as she was, Wendy would never intend harm to come to these kids.

But I still didn't trust her. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, after all.

NLGV, GRQ'W GR DUXJV

I huffed off to the tow truck, and climbed in with Simon. He yawned, exhausted after his futile call to the cops.

I was tired, cranky, and felt bad that Simon had to spend his valuable time on a wild ghost chase arguing with the authorities. "I'm sorry I got you dragged into this, Simon," I apologized. "I'll try to pay you after my next paycheck comes through."

"Don't worry about me," he replied. "I'll talk to my mom. She's the one who owns the towing business, she can probably get you some sort of discount." He dialed her number, and listened for the ring.

I was left with my thoughts, and none of them were happy.

_ It's her fault. Taking Dipper and Mabel away and leaving nothing for me to know they were fine. Getting them to trespass on unused property. Allowing Mabel to eat expired sugar with no self-control and leading to her getting possessed by a freaking ghost! Traumatizing those poor kids. _

_I always knew she was a bad influence. I should never have allowed her to make an impression on the twins. They could've died tonight, and I would never get over that!_

_It's her fault! It's _all_ her fault! _

"Hey Iz, my mom has a way you can pay me."

I snapped out my hazy world of anger, and I tried to be happy to hear what Simon had to say. "How's that?"

"How about a meal at Greasy's? My mom and I were planning on going there sometime next week anyway, and she said she wants to meet you. Would that be fine with you?"

"Uh … sure. Sure, let's do that."

"How's Tuesday brunch sound?"

"Sounds tasty."

"Then it's a deal?"

"Yep." I sealed the deal with a hug of gratitude. It took him by surprise at first, but he returned it. Despite everything that happened tonight, I was thankful for a friend like Simon. I tried to let the dawning morn burn away from inner anger so I could focus on that good thought as we pulled away from the haunted store.

VKRXOG KDYH FDOOHG JKRVWEXVWHUV

A rosy dawn was glowing over the mountainous horizon in the east as everyone piled into Thompson's van. They fell asleep instantly, except for Dipper and Wendy, who were leaving some parting words to each other before climbing in.

"Well, I'm probably scarred for life," said Wendy to Dipper.

"Yeah," agreed Dipper. "That was pretty crazy."

"Think I'm gonna stare at a wall for a while and _rethink_ _everything_. Hey, next time we hang out, let's stay at the Mystery Shack, OK?"

Dipper laughed slightly, not believing his luck. "Next time? Yeah! Yeah! Le-le-let's – let's hang out at the Shack! Yeah. Yeah." He back away nervously, but boarded the van feeling accomplished. "Next time." He slid the door shut, and sat with his sister.

Mabel groaned, sick as a dog and regretting everything that involved her around that Smile Dip last night. She squinted at the message she scribbled over in red ink the previous evening, and muttered, "What kind of sick joke _is_ this?"

It didn't matter anymore. Everything that happened last night was behind them. As the teen group, followed by Simon's tow truck, left the Dusk 2 Dawn to rest in peace, the lights flickered briefly. Then slept.

BRX ORRN QLFE WRGDB!

Stan was sitting in his chair, still watching the boring black and white film. And enjoying every minute of it. Organ music pored from the TV set.

"Ah, the wedding. I've been waiting so long for this," said Stan to himself. "Oh, look at her in that dress!"

The music stopped abruptly as a door slammed open in the church scene. Stan sat up surprised.

"Count Lionel?" he asked. "What's he doin' here?!"

"I've come to reclaim my bride," said Count Lionel.

"You had your chance at the cotillion, you!" exclaimed Stan in fury.

"You had your chance at the cotillion, you!"yelled someone else inside the church.

"THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYIN'!" With an angry bellow in his voice, he threw his TV set out the window. Dipper, Mabel, and I watched it land with a tinkle of glass. We glanced at the broken pane as Stan poked his head out.

"Uh … couldn't find the remote," he said, pulling his head back inside.

"Try the seat cushion in the chair," I called.

"Hey, I sat down in the chair, and the channel changed," he called from the window. "Finally!"

I rolled my eyes, and we went inside to get ready for bed.

RQZDUGV DRVKLPD!

_A/N Sheesh, that was the longest scene I ever wrote. Anyway, thanks guys for your patience and reviews. Everything you tell me helps with this story (that means you, _Lizzybug2000_). Anyway, I'd like for you guys to give me an opinion for a future chapter. I plan on including a character from Ireland, but I'm not sure how to write the character's dialogue: with exactly correct English, or more regional, phonetic English? I only ask because I don't want to be accused of being racist or not correctly representing someone who was raised in Limerick (which is where the character is from). If any of you are Irish, I would appreciate any feedback that you give me concerning this. Thanks for reading, and pray that spring comes soon! C.A.T. out!_


	18. Ch17: DGTU: Anomaly 23: Stan's Tatoo

_A/N: Sorry to keep you guys waiting! Schoolwork, exams, blah, blah, excuses, excuses – OK, on with the show!_

Chapter 18: Dipper's Guide to The Unexplained Anomaly 23: Grunkle Stan's Tattoo

I thought I was paranoid before. But ever since last weekend, I on everything that the twins did. Every other thought was a "what if" question. It was Monday, and thus far we had gone two days without a problem. I hoped the extra praying I had been doing every day was a factor, but I knew that last week's incident proved that danger could happen at any time. And I had to minimize it for Mabel and Dipper as much as humanly possible. And part of that included monitoring or else restricting time with Wendy

Of course, I told none of this to my dad as I chatted with him online through Hype. Probably for the same reason that Dipper and Mabel didn't tell Stan about what happened at the Dusk 2 Dawn.

"So you like it there in Oregon?" Dad asked. It was 2:20 a.m., his time, and 11:20 a.m., my time. He was messaging me from his desk, working from home. "Is everything OK there?"

"Yeah, Dad. It's great here. You have _no idea_ the sort of stuff we get into."

"Such as ..."

"Oh, you know, fishing, going out with friends, that sort of stuff." _Stuff that could kill you on a daily basis, but you know, it's whatev'._

"Are you sure everything's all right out there? You missed my call this morning, and I got a little worried."

I had to sigh. _How many times have we been over this?_ "Dad, you called like four times this morning. At three a.m., then four a.m., then five a.m., then six. I was sleeping. I didn't feel it necessary to wake up to answer the phone."

"I'm sorry, but you know how I get."

"Why? I call you or Mom every day. You know I'm fine here."

"It's just that … you know – I'm afraid to leave you all alone in the wicked world. What sort of evil influences could be out there."

"Come on, Dad. I've been doing great." _ I mean, I was almost killed a couple of times, but that's not for you to worry about. _ "I rented my own room. I got my own job. I've been keeping up my own grades in school. I sort my own laundry. I can take care of myself just fine out here."

"But you're too young. You don't know how to live out there by yourself. Besides, for all I know, you could be getting into trouble and not telling me a word of it. Of course I worry. I wish one of your brothers was with you. You shouldn't have gone so far from home."

I got a little frustrated, but I tried not to get exasperated with him. _I know I have autism, Father. You don't have to make me feel so special._

I faked a smile. "It's almost 11:30 here, Dad. I need to get to class. I'll talk with you later."

"All right, Izzy. You have a good day."

I closed my laptop, without any intention of speaking to him again that day. _How many times do I have to remind him that I'm not a kid anymore?! I'm the oldest; I don't need my _younger _brothers keeping tabs on me!I know he worries about me, I know that he loves me, but why can't he accept that I should be trusted to watch out for myself? How far away do I have to move to prove that to him? _

I stopped myself there, and headed downstairs to pack my book bag. As I headed down the hall, I paused by the twins' bedroom.

"Hey guys, what cha up to?" I asked them. They were putting together a collage on a board.

"Oh, hey Iz," waved Dipper. "We're just putting together something for my next episode of 'Dipper's Guide to The Unexplained.'" He thumb tacked another photo into the board. "Think you can help us?"

"I wish," I replied, and shrugged. "But I have a class to get to, and then later I have to go shopping for Stan and buy more bread, beef jerky, and cans of brown meat. While I'm gone, I don't want you two to get into any trouble of any kind, understand?"

"Aye aye, chief," saluted Mabel.

"What do you think we're gonna do to get in trouble?" asked Dipper.

"Nothing," I replied. "I just don't want to come home and find Mabel foaming at the mouth again."

"You're still paranoid since last week?" asked Mabel.

"Of course. Why aren't you guys?"

"I don't need to be; Dipper's paranoid enough for the both of us."

"Hey!" he replied.

"It's true," his twin countered.

"All right," I said, redirecting their attention. "I'll just lay out some ground rules while I'm gone. Don't go on the roof, don't leave the Shack, and _please_ don't get involved with anything supernatural."

"All right, Iz," sighed Dipper. "We got it. We'll be fine."

"Remember, I've been compiling whatever evidence I can get about Gideon being nothing more than a fraud, and if you get anything else on him – "

"... Come to you. We know."

"And don't forget that I have my cell phone number taped to the fridge. If you need to call me, just – "

"Don't you have a class to get to?"

"All right, see you later then." I hurried downstairs to grab my school things, and left the twins to their task.

Tension never left me as I went about my classes and tasks. As I passed my items at the checkout counter in a convenience store (not without a flashback to the Dusk 2 Dawn), I still couldn't exactly wrap my mind around what happened. At the same time, I understood all too well what we had encountered.

_It's just as Lavey had promised,_ I thought. _Each monster we face is worse than the last one._ _Gideon is still on my priority list of people to avoid and hopefully prosecute, but I don't know what to do about the Dusk 2 Dawn. I guess the simplest solution is to not go there, but that place is beyond hazardous with sadistic dead souls inhabiting the place. Aren't there any priests in town that can perform an exorcism or something? I just can't rest easy anymore knowing that something out there could – _

"Hey, Iz," said a familiar voice as I stepped over the threshold of the air conditioned corner store and unto the summer hot sidewalk.

_ Oh, why _her_? _

"Hi, Wendy," I said, trying not to make it obvious my smile was forced. I was still angry with her over what happened last week, and wasn't ready to be on friendly terms with her yet, if ever again. I started walking away.

"I-I was on my way to buy a slushie," she told me. "Want to join me? I can spare some change."

I paused halfway down the sidewalk.

_ The person I hate is being nice to me. _

_ Awkward._

"Uh, it's all right," I told her. "I have to get back to the Shack and, uh ... do something productive."

"Oh, come on. It won't take all day. Let me treat you."

"But, uh, but, uh … I-I couldn't do that to you. It's your hard earned money."

"It's no trouble. Honest."

"But – "

"Please, Iz. Let me be a friend."

I had never knew someone who would try so hard to be generous to the point of begging me to spend their money. It was so irrational.

Yet it seemed genuine.

"Well … I guess I am a little thirsty."

"Then let's go." She took one of my grocery bags, and lead me down the sidewalk. I realized then that I felt more queasy than thirsty.

_ Scene_: Dipper is standing by a poster board with photos taped on it in his and Mabel's bedroom. Mabel's hand is in the scene as well, pretending to squish Dipper's head.

"Hello, I'm Dipper Pines," he said. "The girl trying to crush my head is Mabel."

"I'm helping!" she waves at the camera.

"Today, on 'Dipper's Guide to The Unexplained' – OK, that-that's enough," he says, waving his sister's hand out of the way. "Today we investigate Anomaly Number Twenty-three: Grunkle Stan's Secret Tattoo."

He holds up a cardboard sign that says "Dipper's Guide to The Unexplained #23 'Grunkle Stan's Tattoo,' and walks toward the poster board with photo attempts of Stan's tattoo. Mabel does a close-up, and pans the camera around the photos, one of which has Mabel who applied lipstick on Stan while he was asleep, with the message, "Mabel was here." The tattoo is on the back of his right shoulder, periwinkle blue, and unidentifiable.

"What is he hiding?" asks Dipper rhetorically. "A college prank? Secret symbol? Or something _stranger_?"

The camera returns to focus on Dipper.

"Stan claims it doesn't exist. But today we're gonna find out."

Mabel cuts in. "Right after another exciting episode of-" the camera was moves to a shot of Mabel's knee with a bandage- "'What's Under Mabel's Bandage?' Do dooo..." She begins to peel the bandage back.

"Ew! Mabel –"

-_Cut away-_

_ Scene:_ Dipper and Soos are downstairs, standing next to the house thermostat.

"OK," says Dipper. "Here's the plan: Stan never takes off his undershirt." He ran toward the camera to get a face shot. "Obviously to hide his tattoo." He runs back. "But me and Soos are about to 'turn up the heat' on this mystery." He turns up the heat on the thermostat to 100 degrees Fahrenheit while Soos laughs.

"Literally!" says Soos. "I love how you come up with stuff like that."

-_Cut away-_

_ Scene:_ Soos and Stan are in the Mystery Shack. The camera is secreted on a shelf. Stan is studying the cover of a book, and is unaware of being filmed.

"Whew!" remarks Soos, fanning his face. "Hot in here today, huh, Mr. Pines?" He winks at the camera. "Probably would be a lot cooler if we... worked without our shirts on!" He removes his own saying so. "Am I right?"

Stan looks at him. "Soos, I will pay you to put your shirt back on."

"Aw, don't be shy, Mr. Pines," says Soos. He climbs on the souvenir counter behind him, and lays on his side. "Bodies are nothing to be ashamed of."

"Watch the shop for a minute, Soos," replies Stan, disgusted. "I need to go find a melon baller and pull my eyeballs out." He walks out of the shop.

Soos sits upright on the counter. He holds his flabby belly and squishes it up and down in rhythm to some tune he came up with. "Do, dododododo, do, dodododo, do. Hey! Da, dadadada –"

_-Cut away-_

I ordered a raspberry shushy and a lemonade slushy while Wendy found an empty booth. I was hoping to escape after getting my drink, but Wendy was carrying one of my grocery bags, and I didn't want to be blatantly rude after taking up her generous offer. Handling undesired relationships tactfully can be a real challenge.

I sat awkwardly in our booth, slurping my slushie, and watching water droplets condense on the the plastic cup's surface. How could I be so friendly with someone who I still held with some contempt?

Wendy took a long slurp of her lemonade. "So … what brought you out here to Gravity Falls?" she finally asked.

The question surprised me. Since moving here, anyone had yet asked me that question.

"I mean, you couldn't have come out here for the scenery," she added.

"Well … I guess I felt called out here," I replied. "So I saved some money and decided to give this place a shot." I wasn't sure if I wanted to get into the details yet about hearing God's voice. I wasn't too experienced in the line of witnessing to unbelievers, so I wasn't sure how credible I would sound if I just said, "I heard God Himself tell me to move out to the Middle of Nowhere, USA, for no explicit reason whatsoever. But that's cool, right?"

And I certainly didn't want to bring up any other reasons.

"You're so lucky!" exclaimed Wendy. "At your age, you can do anything you want."

"Yeah, but it ain't all it's cracked up to be." I took a long raspberry slurp.

"What are you talking about? You can go anywhere and do anything you want. If you want to run away from home, the cops don't need to look for you."

I almost choked on my straw. For a crazed moment, I thought she nailed me. But I knew she was just stating a fact. Contemplatively swallowing my drink, I replied, "But you leave some worried parents behind if you leave without a trace."

"But you don't have to live with your parents or any of your family. After you turn eighteen, you can live on your own without someone yelling for you to get out of bed or how to dress or to have a good attitude. _You_ moved to the opposite side of the country all on your own, to go to a college that offers little academic opportunity, and to live in a tourist trap with a scheming land lord. That wouldn't be something that any parent would probably advise. You could do all that on your own whether they would want that or not."

"Yeah, but growing out of minor status means that your parents can't be responsible for your life; _you_ have to be. No one's gonna drive you to appointments, or pay your phone bills, or cook your meals – but I don't need to tell you all this. You're fifteen; you know what to expect."

"That's another problem: being a teenager. Adults expect you to behave like a grownup but treat you like a kid, and expect that you'll do dumb things and always get into trouble."

_Well … when you pull stunts like breaking into a haunted convenience store, what do you expect?_ Even so, I understood how she felt.

I was fifteen once too.

"And they don't give you responsibilities you can handle or allow you to mature because they believe that you can't handle them," I agreed. "They won't even give you a chance."

"But that's not fair!" Wendy slammed her fist on the table in passion, nearly knocking over her beverage. "We're not kids anymore! I'm fifteen years old, and I can take care of myself."

I almost snorted. "I said the same thing to my mom, and she laughed at me."

"But parents need to let their kids grow up and do things for themselves."

"Well, maybe they just want to protect their kids. They know what sort of dangers that are out there and don't want their kids to make bad decisions or get into trouble."

"But they have to trust that their kids _will_ make the right decisions, don't they? If parents don't have faith in their own kids, then they'll go out and try to prove who they are, if not to their own parents, then to their friends, or their family … or to themselves."

In that moment, I realized that was one of the ultimate reasons for me making this huge move from New Jersey and away from home: to prove that I could make it out here. Without my parents.

But they didn't need to know that I was a capable person.

I did.

And Wendy needed to know it for herself as well.

_Scene_: Living room. Dipper is holding the camera, and faces it as he speaks.

"OK, Plan B." He turns the camera to face Stan, who sits in the armchair, watching TV, Pitt soda pop can in hand, attired in an undershirt.

"Heavens! Is that poison oak on your shoulder? Let me_ scratch it _for you." He reaches his hand for Stan's shoulder.

Stan slaps it away without looking. "Kid, if you're trying to see my tattoo you're gonna hafta try harder than that."

"_Aha_!" cries Dipper. "I thought you said you didn't _have _a tattoo!"

"I don't." He pulls out a red marker. "But _you_ do."

"What do you mean I –"

Dipper screams as Stan points the red marker at him.

-_Cut away-_

We sat in across from each other in a thoughtful silence. I didn't notice how noisy the rest of the restaurant was without our conversation. After listening to glasses clink and couples murmur for almost a minute, I decided to bring up another topic.

"You know, I've been feeling more and more like a paranoid parent everyday," I admitted.

I mentally slapped myself for saying the first thing that came to mind.

A look of worry fell over Wendy's face. "If that's because of last week, I just – "

"No-no-no-no – it's a combination of things," I interjected, trying to save myself and her from more embarrassment. "So much has been going on in the last couple of weeks, things that have endangered Dipper and Mabel's lives. I'm afraid for them, like any moment something terrible could happen to them unless I'm right there to make sure they're safe."

"But you saw Dipper last week. _He_ saved _our_ lives without anyone's help. No offense, but he seems more capable than you give him credit for."

I recalled the last thing I said to them before I left, the way I had been treating them over the weekend, and my last conversation with Dad. And I realized another horrifying truth.

"Oh no. I've become my _fa__ther_!"

"It isn't that bad."

"But I can't help it! What if something happens to them? We have almost been killed more than once in the last few weeks. It's been traumatizing! How can I sleep knowing that those kids are safe without me?"

I slumped my face in my arms. I never felt so weak and defeated.

Wendy stirred her straw and her thoughts before replying.

"You know, everything that happened last Friday night got me thinking about stuff. Like the supernatural, you know? If ghosts were real, what about eternity? And what about heaven or hell? What about God? And I remembered a time a couple of years ago when I saw this TV show with some preacher guy, talking about God protecting His people. He said something about how Christians should put on a helmet of salvation and all this other armor, and use this sword of the Spirit. And he said something else, a verse from the Bible. It said, 'For God gave us not a spirit of fearfulness …'"

"... But of power and love and discipline," I finished. "Second Timothy one seventeen." The straw slipped from my mouth. I should have remembered that.

"Yeah, and then he said that Christians shouldn't be afraid, and even if they are, to rely on God for their protection. He said this guy from the Bible named Paul had his life threatened all the time. You know about him, right? He got stuck in shipwrecks, was almost stoned to death, and all kinds of crazy stuff. But even when he was in danger and was harmed, he still prayed and relied on God for protection. I thought it was crazy for anyone to be able to do that."

"But it shouldn't be for someone who's supposed to trust God," I replied with resolve. "Some things are gonna be out of my control. But God has all things under His control, even if I can't see it for myself." _Even if Dad can't see it for himself._

I looked over at Wendy, her coy smile drawn into her face, arms folded with satisfaction. I felt a pang of guilt for previously trying to brush her off. "Thanks, Wendy. I needed that."

"Just trying to help," she replied modestly. She got up form the booth, and threw away her not empty plastic cup. She returned to grab a grocery bag, and I followed behind, tossing my empty cup into the trash bin.

"To the Shack?" she asked me as we exited.

"To the Shack," I affirmed. We headed down the sidewalk. I heard the unwelcome voice of Lavey in my head remind me, _'Worse things are comi –'_

"The Lord is my light and my salvation," I interrupted out loud. "Whom shall I fear?" For once, I wasn't gonna think about Gideon's threats, or worry about what other dangers that could be out there. Whatever happened, I had to trust Someone to take care of us. I was finally gonna put all those hours of Bible verse memorization to use. And enjoy every minute of it.

I felt the tension I had with the redhead evaporate into the summer sun, and a pleasant inner sense of forgiveness uplift me. I knew I wasn't gonna agree with her on everything. But I saw that we had more in common than I would have thought. And if she was willingly to try to amend things and be an encouragement, how could I stay enemies with her?

"Iz?" I turned my head to face her. Her coy smile was replaced with a look of discomfort and guilt. "I'm sorry about last Friday. Should have thought about that more carefully."

"What happened? I forgot. It couldn't have been anything important." She gave me a puzzled look, and I gave her an attempt at a coy smile. It didn't take her long to catch my drift.

"You're right. Friday night never happened."

"Although I never thanked you for covering for Dipper. He really appreciates it."

"Covering what?"

"Exactly."

We chuckled as we ascended the road to the Shack.

"You know," I said to her. "I'd thought that trick you showed us with sliding down the trees last Thursday was pretty wicked."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Think you could show me how you do that?"

"If you can show me how to be ambidextrous, sure."

"Now _that's_ a challenge. You're on."

"And while you're at it, could you explain some of that stuff to me about the sword of the Spirit and all that? If that stuff is for real, I might want in on it."

"Anytime you want."

"Just be sure to bring Dipper with you. I hear he's really getting into that stuff."

"Can do," I said with a smile.

_Wendy might be a little unconventional,_ I decided. I watched her toss a strip of beef jerky she "borrowed" into the air, and catch it between her teeth.

_But that's the best thing about her._

_Scene_: Upstairs hallway, outside the bathroom. Mabel is holding the camera as Dipper explains his next plan. The word "GOOBER" is written in red marker on his forehead, right underneath a partially hidden birthmark.

"OK, Plan C," Dipper says. "Stan is in the shower. I wish it hadn't come to this, but sometimes you have to do _terrible_ things for science."

"I believe in you, Goober," replies his sister.

"Dipper – just say Dipper." He takes the camera, and walks past Mabel toward the bathroom door. He pushes the door open, and walks inside the steamy bathroom. He approaches the shower curtain, pulls it aside, and steam rushes out, revealing Stan...

...fully dressed and not happy.

"You're never gonna see it, kid," he tells Dipper. "_Never. Gonna. See it._"

"How long have you been standing there?" Dipper asks.

"Gimme that camera – "

_-Cut away-_

_ Scene:_ Dipper is sitting on the roof, in Wendy's hide out. He holds the camera and is all by himself.

"Sooo I just figured I'd chill out on the roof for a while..."

"I'M GONNA FIND YOU, KID!" A flock of birds flies away at the sound of Stan's furious voice.

"Well, that's it for this episode," concludes Dipper. "Stan's tattoo remains a mystery, but who knows what other secrets are waiting to be uncovered."

_-Cut away back to Mystery Shack-_

Isannah walked into the Gift Shop, watching Soos squish his belly. She backs away slowly. Soos is sitting on the counter, still singing, "Do, dodododo, do, do, dodododo, do –"

_Scene ends._

_A/N Hey people! Sorry for all the psychology and relationship development to replace the fact that there isn't any rising action that I have going for the plot so far. However, Episode 12 will be a point where the story really takes off, and where the plot takes a turn for the crazy. It will be a defining moment, I promise you that it won't disappoint!_


	19. Ch18:DvsM: The Cutie Patootie

Chapter 19: Dipper VS Manliness: The Cutie Patootie

"Hey, Simon. I was just calling to ask what time exactly I should meet you and your mom at Greasy's diner. I have this class at eleven thirty, and I don't want to be late, you know?"

"Could I get back to you on that, Iz? My mom and I need to take the tow truck on the outskirts of town. We got a call about a Pitt soda truck that got overturned by some thing that looked like a ginormous bull, and it crashed into a fire hydrant and is blocking two lanes of traffic."

"Wow, sounds like a doosy! Would a different time be better?"

"I'll call you to let you know. If I can't make it for breakfast, maybe we can arrange for the lunch or dinner hour. Just wait for me to call, and don't wait at the diner all day for us."

"Sure. Take care."

I hung up, and headed downstairs to the Gift Shop. I hadn't told Stan about my plans for the day, mostly because with him, I could get away with last minute planning. I was wondering though how he would feel about me taking some time of the day off, when I walked in and saw the business: one customer. Namely, Tyler.

He was looking over the various merchandise in the store, and spoke with Stan. "I like to get my Christmas shopping done early," he said. "Do you have anything that's in the spirit of the season?"

I was about to point out the obvious, but Stan quickly improvised. "Uh... how 'bout these crystals?" He held out a bowl of cracked shards.

Tyler chuckled. "Looks like broken glass."

Stan pulled the bowl back. "What are you, a cop?"

But Tyler just looked around and smiled. "Oh! What is that new thing?" He ran over to check out another shelf of merchandise as the twins walked in from outside. They had been working that morning on patching up a window they broke last Sunday playing baseball with Wendy.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper asked.

"Can we go to the diner?" Mabel finished. "We're hunnngreeee," she told him, squishing her belly. It brought back memories of Soos from yesterday.

Her brother imitated her. "Hunnngreeee." They both bumped bellies together, and made stomach growling noises. I chuckled, until I heard my stomach protest for food.

"Yeah," said their uncle. "Sure. As soon as this yahoo makes up his mind." He pointed at Tyler, who was looking at the mounted "fur trout."

"Do you have this in another animal?" he asked.

Stan deadpanned. "I'm fine lockin' him inside if you are."

The twins both nodded. Anything to get them breakfast.

"Leave this guy with me," I said. "I'll take care of the Shack while you guys go out for breakfast."

"Are you sure, Iz?" asked Mabel. "You'll be all alone."

"Being single isn't _that _bad," I replied. "Just the story of my life."

"But don't you want to eat with us?" Dipper asked.

"Hey, don't encourage her," protested Stan. "The less mouths I have to pay to eat, the better."

"Besides, I'm waiting on a call. I promise you, I'll make sure this yahoo buys something before leaving," I told Stan, indicating Tyler, who was looking at two T-shirts, one with a puma, another with a panther, trying to decide between the two.

Pleased with my final answer, Stan and the twins headed for El Diablo. They drove out of the lot while Tyler tried to make a decision.

"Puma shirt? Panther shirt? Puma shirt? Panther shirt? Puma shirrrrt?"

He paused.

_Well?_ I thought. _Which one?_

"Panther shirt."

_-Gravity Falls theme-_

Greasy's diner looked like a log on a freight train, with the sign under the restaurant title "We Have Food." Wasn't much for scenery but no one came for that.

Inside, a woodpecker pecked at the wall inside the restaurant, and an employee shooed and swatted it away with a broom. A beaver gnawed on the floor, and the same employee yelled "Git!" and hit the broom over its head until it ran away. She chased it across the room as the Pines family entered.

They passed several patrons, including a coffee hyped Old Man McGucket, Manly Dan chomping an enormous drumstick beside his daughter, and Sheriff Blubs shoveling pancakes into his mouth while his deputy recorded his speed on his radar gun.

The Pines seated themselves in a booth. Dipper and Stan looked at the menus while Mabel placed a spoon on her nose. The employee chasing the beaver ran by with her broom, shattering some fragile objects in her wake, and a waitress approached their table.

Stan glanced up at her, and smiled in recognition. "Lazy Susan, there's my little ray of sunshine." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Where were you yesterday?"

Lazy Susan gave him her usual cheerful, lazy eyed expression. "I got hit by a bus."

Stan laughed hugely, slamming his fist on the table. "Hilarious!"

"Thank you." She gave a laugh of her own.

Stan then returned to the business of eating. "You do split plates, right?"

"Maaaaybe …" the waitress replied. She pulled up the lid on her lazy eye, making it blink. "Wink."

"Great," he replied. "Well, I'll split a one fourth of the number seven, plus a free salad dressing for the lady, and a small plate of ketchup for the boy." He saluted her with a tip of his fez, and she took their orders to the kitchen.

Mabel tugged her grunkle's sleeve to get his attention."But Grunkle Stan, I want pancakes," she whined.

"With the fancy flour they use these days? Huh, what am I? Made of money?" He threw his arms out dramatically, and a bill slipped from his sleeve. He tapped it back inside with a "Tap, tap," and Mabel gave a disappointed "Awww."

Dipper glanced around the booth, and saw a small table with a plate of pancakes across the room. A sign on the table said "Win Game Free Pancakes," and pointed to a game meant to test strength called "Tester of Manliness." The title of the game was held by a shirtless plastic man with a ripped upper body.

Dipper cracked his knuckles. "Don't worry, guys. Pancakes are on me. I'm gonna win some by beating that manliness tester."

Stan and Mabel each raised an eyebrow.

"Manliness tester?"

"Beating?"

They both burst out laughing. Stan laughed so hard that he barely gasped out "He says- he says he's – " before continuing to laugh uncontrollably like a hyena and thumping his fist on the table.

Dipper was genuinely confused. "What? What's so funny?"

"Oh, no offense Dipper," replied Mabel between laughs, "but you're not exactly 'Manly Mannington.'"

Dipper took as much offense. "Hey! I am too 'Manly … Manny', or whatever it is you said."

"Look, face the music kid," said his grunkle. "You got no muscles, you smell like baby wipes, and let's not forget last Tuesday's ... 'incident.'"

Stan recounted the little "incident," and Dipper flashbacked to last Tuesday in the bathroom.

– Dipper had a towel around his waist, and was singing to his reflection in the mirror. He played a disc, and held a comb like a microphone.

"Disco girl!

Coming through!

That girl is you!"

Stan walked in unexpectedly, and Dipper dropped the comb, screaming "Don't come in! Don't come in!" –

"You were listening to girly Icelandic pop sensation _BABBA_?" Mabel asked incredulously.

Dipper mind was still reeling from that latest moment of utter embarrassment. "No! Heh heh – I wasn't – It's not important! Look, c'mon guys, I'm plenty masculine! You see this chest hair?" He pulled down his collar, and his bare chest glowed with bareness. Too brightly, at that.

"Put it away! Put it away!" screamed Mabel, turning away.

"Aahh! So smooth! My eyes!" cried Stan, shielding his eyes.

Dipper glanced down at his bare chest, and pulled his collar back up. "Aw, man." Mabel and Stan laughed again.

But Dipper refused to be discouraged. "Fine, 'family of little faith.' Get ready to eat your words." He shuffled out of the booth. "And a plate of delicious pancakes."

As he marched to the tester, people on opposite sides of the aisle paused in their conversations and meals to watch him. He rolled up his sleeves, ready to take on the challenge.

"All right, Dipper," he muttered to himself. He cracked his knuckles, looking confidently at the handle lever that he needed to grasp. "Time to manhandle this … manhandle." His eyes scrolled up the manliness scale, starting from "Wimp" and climbing all the way up to "Manly Man." It seemed more daunting a closer view.

Dipper felt himself sweat nervously. "And ah-one, and ah-two – "

"Quit stallin'!" called Stan.

With everyone's eyes on him, Dipper gripped the handle lever, and pulled his fingers on it tightly. He strained as lights by each level beeped on.

Beep. Wimp.

Beep. Middle Aged Woman.

Beep. Barely Passable.

Beep. Manly …

Dipper exhaled, positive he would make it.

But the lights beeped out as he relaxed his grip, plunging his score all the way to "Wimp." A card popped out of a slot from the console. On it was a picture of a smiling baby, with a caption saying "You are a CUTIE PATOOTIE!"

"Oh, what?" Dipper scoffed, stuffing the card inside his vest. "This thing must be broken – it's totally broken, guys. It's like a million years old – probably ran out of steam power – "

He was shoved away by Manly Dan's bulk. The lumberjack cracked his knuckles, ready to challenge the game himself.

Dipper saw this guy destroy a game console at the Shattered Skull. He couldn't let this guy win.

"I-i-it's rickety, man. Ah – uh, you shouldn't even– "

But Manly Dan pushed the lever with his pinkie, and the lights beeped until he reached the Manly Man level. The machine overloaded from his man power, and blew apart, causing one of the arms of the plastic sign holder to tip the plate of free pancakes from the table into the air, and the flapjacks to flop into waiting plates all over the dining room.

"YEAH!" yelled Manly Dan triumphantly." PANCAKES FOR EVERYONE!"

The entire restaurant cheered. Except for Dipper, the cutie patootie. A pancake flopped on his head.

Mabel and Stan looked at him from their booth, still laughing at him.

"I need to get some chest hair and fast." Dipper ran for the open door, and tripped over a beaver. But he quickly recovered. "I'm fine! Heh heh! Hehe- everything's fine!" He assured no one in particular as he hurried out.

Stan turned around in the booth, disgusted. "Yeesh. How am I related to _that_?"

"Come on, Grunkle Stan," said Mabel. She enjoyed teasing her brother, but knew when to defend him. "I'm sure deep down you have a soft side too."

"Ha! None of that here but a cold, dark, empty soul." Lazy Susan brought in a tray of their order, and Stan seized up in fear.

"Food!" said Lazy Susan.

Stan stuttered around his responses. "Thanks there, sugarpot. I-I mean, honeywasp-kin baby – ba-baby cow – "

"Silly," Lazy Susan laughed, and walked away. "Silly man."

Mabel was confused. "What was that about?"

"Nothing!" yelped Stan. "I, uh – I don't wanna talk about it! Talk about what? Why is this table wet?"

"Wait just a second." Mabel rubbed her forehead as she thought. "I think I have an idea happening here. You..."

"No!"

"... and her …"

"Stop it!"

"Aaahhh!' she screamed with revelation.

"Oh boy."

Mabel excitedly grabbed his sleeve. "You have a thing for Lazy Susan! You _do_ have a soft side."

Stan shoved a silencing finger over her lips. "K-k-keep it down, will ya?" he whispered. "All right, I admit it, OK?" He dropped his face into his palm. "It would be nice if she liked me, but I've been out of the game for so long I wouldn't know where to start. I mean, look at her. She's so classy."

Lazy Susan was trying to get the trolley inside rotating by punching the pie display case. "Spin, ya dumb pies, spin!"

Mabel took his face in her hands. "Grunkle Stan, you are a cranky, gross, weird old man, but we will get Lazy Susan to like you because nothing is stronger than the power of – "

"Love?" he asked.

"Mabel," she replied. "To victory!" she toasted, and downed her salad dressing.

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Dipper walked down the main road of Gravity Falls, hands in pockets.

"'Not manly enough.'" he muttered. "Stupid diner! Stupid lumberjack – " He was doused in water firing from a fire hydrant. The police were on scene.

"Another hydrant destroyed," mentioned Sheriff Blubs. He tweaked his mustache in thought. "It's a gosh-danged mystery."

"Wanna take off our uniforms and run around in circles?" asked Deputy Durland.

Blubs already had his shirt off. "Quit readin' my mind."

Both took their shirts and swung them over their heads while running around the hydrant like a couple of kids around a sprinkler, hollering joyously. Without their facial hair or adult height, no one would know the difference.

Dipper backed away from the scene, but bumped into a woman carrying letters. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I was looking for the mail man."

In the current context, Dipper took instant offense. "Oh, what? Are you saying I'm _not_ a male man? Is that what you're trying to say – I'm not male – I'm not a man – is that-is that what you're getting at?"

"Are you crying?" the woman asked, concerned.

Failing to stifle his tears, Dipper ran down a short alley into the woods, and out of town.

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Alone in a clearing, Dipper worked on his upper body. By lifting a thin stick as a weight.

"... two …" he strained. "... three … four ..."

After that exhaustive workout, he pulled back the front of his shirt collar, and peeked inside. "No chest hair yet." He flopped back to the grass. "Is it physical? Is it mental? What's the secret?"

He pulled out a bag of _Real Man Jerky_. A caption by the jerky's mascot said "You're Inadequate!"

"You said it, brother," Dipper said, laying the bag of jerky aside. "I need help."

On cue, the ground vibrated, and birds took to the air. A roar resounded through the forest, and deer, rabbits, and various birds leaped and flew over Dipper's head to flee from whatever it was crashing through the brush. A bear ran by, and even Manly Dan ran to Dipper, yelling "FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY, RUUU-UUUUN!"

Dipper grabbed his hat and and jumped before a pine tree fell on him. The monster continued to roar, and Dipper could tell from it's proximity that it was already upon him. He peeked cautiously from behind the fallen tree. Closer it stomped.

Closer …

… closer …

Dipper watched the creature approach until it overshadowed him, and screamed shrilly.

"Wait. Sorry." Dipper tried to scream in a deeper tone, but coughed in the mid-scream, and gave up.


	20. Ch19: DvsM: How to Train Your Man

Chapter 20: Dipper vs. Manliness: How To Train Your Man

As I washed dishes, I could heard Mabel and Stan walk through the front door and into the kitchen. Mabel seemed particularly giddy and Stan seemed particularly unamused.

"Hey, Pinecone! How was breakfast?"

"Oh, you know, it was breakfast," Mabel replied. "But what's even better is that Stan has a crush on Lazy Susan and needs my professional help on asking her out!"

Stan seemed a little alarmed about her outburst, and quickly tried to diverge from the subject. "Uh, um, well, uh, – what are you doin' here? I thought you said you would stay behind the register!"

"I did. Until Wendy started her shift. Then I got hungry, and decided to make some pancakes. I still have a few left on a plate in the dining room, but I don't – "

"Dibs!" shouted Mabel, running for the table.

After she ran out, I asked, "So … did I hear her right? Is she really gonna 'help' you get together with the waitress at the diner?"

"Unfortunately, yes," he admitted. "Although I wish she wouldn't."

Stan was certainly not the sensitive, romantic sort. Even so, I asked, "Why not?"

"What is with you women and your probing questions?" he replied gruffly, removing his oat to hang on a coat rack. His statement of course only made me more curious.

"You do realize that the more you evade the question, the longer the interrogation continues," I replied.

"What are you, a cop?" he asked me. He sighed, and finally relented though. "Fine. I don't want to even try because I … I had this friend. He fell in love with this woman, and they dated, got married, even started a family. But after a year of bein' hitched, he left her, saying that it was the worst mistake of his life. I have _no idea_ what happened to cause them to split, and the guy was total nut, but I don't want that to be me. I don't want to regret anything."

I didn't say anything at first. Simply because I never thought that Stan would be the sort of person to let a friend's choices determine his own decisions. I was about to think of something encouraging to say, when my cell went off. I excused myself to answer, and walked into the living room.

"Hey-lo?"

"Hey Iz, it's me, Simon. Sorry for the late call, buy I just wanted you to know that my mom and I are finished with the train wreck on the highway."

"Oh, that's a relief! But I, uh, need to tell you something Simon."

"So do I! My class for tomorrow got switched with your class that was supposed to be today! I gonna be in class today for the next few hours. I'm sorry, Iz."

"Wait, that's what that switchup was all about? I was wondering about that."

"I guess we can't go til later this evening."

"No no no, it's fine, Simon! Really. I'm totally cool with going out this evening."

"You sure? I don't want to wreck any plans or anything."

"Hey, I'm treating you, remember? But I just hope that word about this doesn't get around in school."

"Oh believe me, I don't either. Not that I don't like you or anything – I – I – just, you know, don't want the wrong people to hear about it or – or – "

"Yeah, you know how those gossip queens in school can be. Well, you know about that. I don't really know, I barely know anyone in school except you."

"So … how about later tonight then, you, me, and Mom?"

"Tonight at like, say … six thirty?"

"Sounds like a plan. I'll be sure that this is the _last _last minute change, I promise!"

"No worries. See ya then."

As I hung up and thought about worrying, I realized something. "Say, where's Dipper?"

"Kid took off," replied Stan heading to his room to undress. "He said something about getting chest hair and just left. Haven't seen him since."

I stemmed the flow of worry that was threatening to flood my mind. Ever since yesterday, I was trying not to worry about the twins as much as I had and trust that God would keep them say. I muttered a prayer under my breath before leaving the burden of Dipper's safety in God's hands. But immediately, I had second thoughts, and was stepping into the hall to the front door, when …

"Iz, wait! You can't leave yet!"

I felt Mabel lock her hands around my wrist and forcefully yank me back toward the stairs. "You have to get something nice on."

I glanced down at my T-shirt stained in a couple of places with grease, and homemade jean shorts. "Why? I'm just going to look for – "

"Something nice, that's right! I was thinking of something along the lines of formal and pink."

I was confused. _What's she going on about?_ She seemed much too excited to simply be playing a game of dress up. "But I don't have anything really formal or pink. I can't – "

"You're right! What was I thinking? You should get your hair done first before putting on a dress."

"But I don't have a – "

"Wendy, go fetch me one of your dresses! You have one you can spare, right?"

Wendy had entered the living room as I entered, and seemed as confused as I probably was. "Maybe."

"Great! Now go upstairs and get a shower, Iz. We have work to do."

With a cocked eyebrow, I headed upstairs. Whatever happened to Dipper, I was hoping _he_ wasn't involved with any weird event that forced him to alter his appearance to satisfy someone else's demands.

As Isannah left and the door to her room closed, Wendy asked Mabel, "Are you sure you heard her right?"

"Of course I did," she replied. "I am a conversation specialist. I can pick up on any topic based solely on one side of a conversation. It's so obvious that she's going out with Simon tonight."

"Yeah, I guess," Wendy replied uncertainly. "Maybe we should talk about it with her first though to be sure."

"But didn't you hear her? She doesn't want anyone to know about her date because she doesn't want any gossip going around about their relationship."

"But why? I mean, if she does like him, why should she be ashamed of anyone knowing?"

"Maybe she's never been on a date before and is nervous about what could happen. That's why we need to help her. I need to give her advice, and you need to let her borrow that dress. Now let's get to it!"

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The monster stomped into view. Dipper watched the beast approach him, panting in fear behind his fallen tree.

He could see every detail of the creature. Long brown mustache, hairy chest, masculine tattoo … the beast was a frightful minotaur!

The minotaur stretched his arms over his head and seemed to roar, but the sound turned into simply a loud yawn. He pulled a male deer out of a thicket, used him as a back scratcher, and threw the deer over his shoulder. The buck leaped away into the woods.

The minotaur fixed his attention on Dipper. Dipper cowered behind the log, but the masculine beast just shoved it aside.

Dipper grabbed his beef jerky and back pedaled as far as he could from the beast.

"Please don't eat me!" Dipper begged hurriedly. "I haven't showered – in like a week! And I'm … I'm like all elbows! Elbows and gristle!" The minotaur took another step threateningly towards him.

"YOU! …" bellowed the minotaur.

Dipper yelped.

"... gonna finish that?" He pointed to Dipper's bag of beef jerky.

Dipper glanced at the bag, and tossed it the minotaur. "No." The minotaur grabbed the contents of the bag, and shoveled bits of jerky into his open mouth.

Dipper stared at the beast. "I can't believe it. Part animal, part human. Are you some kind of minotaur?"

"I'M MANOTAUR!" the beast roared. He punched the ground with each statement he made. "HALF MAN, HALF… uh … HALF TAUR!

"So did I, like, summon you, or – "

"THE SMELL OF_ JERKY_ SUMMONED ME! JERKY!" The manotaur punched a nearby tree straight through the trunk, causing it to splinter and fall. He then grabbed a nearby small boulder, slammed it against his forehead, and let out a roar. He laughed, but stopped short. He sniffed the air, finding a peculiar scent, and followed it right to Dipper. He pressed closer to determine the scent, and knocked Dipper's hat in the process.

"I smell … " the manotaur sniffed, " Emotional issues." His long brown hair blew dramatically in the wind.

Dipper retrieved his hat. "I have problems, manotaur," he explained, hugging his knees. "Man-related problems."

The manotaur sat crossed legged besides him, and patted his knee as a sign to continue.

"Well, my own uncle called me a wimp … "

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," said the manotaur.

" … and I kinda flunked this manliness video game thing ..."

The manotaur nodded understandingly.

Then Dipper got an idea. "Hey, you know, you seem pretty manly. Maybe you could give me some pointers?"

The manotaur thought about it for a short moment. "Very well." The beast turned his back to him. "Climb atop my backhair, child." Flies buzzed around him, and he carried a bit of a nasty odor.

"Uh, OK," Dipper replied uneasily.

WR GHIHDW WKH KXQV

I was in Mabel's room with Wendy and Mabel, looking over the dress Wendy let me borrow. It was a spicy mint color, with a skirt that just brushed the floor. I still had no clue why I was supposed to wear it. But I knew that I couldn't wear it.

"Mabel, I don't think this is gonna work."

"But Iz, that's the prettiest dress Wendy has. And it's totally your color."

"It's not the color. This dress is too small."

"Just suck in your gut. Besides, your butt's not big. It'll be fine."

I deadpanned. "It's not my butt that won't fit."

"Wendy, help her out. I need to make sure that Soos rented the right dress size to wear himself."

With that, Mabel left us to try and sort out the size issue. Wendy and I gave each other frightened looks. The dress was pretty, but not the situation. _How did I let this happen?_

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Dipper and the manotaur were soon running through the woods, Dipper on the manotaur's shoulders. The beast ran into a tree, and it exploded into splinters on contact. Dipper yelped, bouncing on the manotaur's back, trying to keep his grip on his horns. The manotaur's height put Dipper at a disadvantage, causing him to hit any low-lying branches in the way. Dipper's face caught a bird nest full of chirping chicks, which he brushed aside. But he noticed another obstacle ahead of them.

"Dude, watch out!" A gaping gorge was in their path, and beyond it was nothing but a mountain wall to stop them.

With a courageous yell, the manotaur leaped over the gorge, while Dipper screamed in fear and covered his eyes, waiting for impact. They crashed into the mountain wall without injury.

Dipper peeked between his fingers. "Whoa … " he breathed.

Inside the mountain was full of manotaurs. All of them participating in man-related activities, such as weight-lifting, doing push-ups, throwing darts, and playing foosball.

Dipper jumped off the manotaur's back. "This place is amazing," said Dipper.

"The gnomes live in the trees," said the manotaur leading Dipper further into the man cave. "The merpeople live in the water, 'cuz they're losers!" He stepped underneath a armlocked pair of manotaurs. "But we manotaurs crash IN THE MAN CAVE!" He and Dipper stepped unto a elevated area, set like a sort of stage. The manotaur took hold of a bone, and hit a gong, calling the attention of the other manotaurs.

"BEASTS! I HAVE BROUGHT YOU A HAIRLESS CHILD!" He pushed Dipper further up front for his audience to see.

"'Sup?" said Dipper.

The manotaur introduced each of the punching others in the cave. "This is, uh, Pubetaur, Testosteraur, Pituitaur … " he then pointed to himself. "And I'm Chutzpar." He pointed to Dipper. "AND YOU ARE?"

"My name's Dipper," he replied.

The crowd of manotaurs booed and shook thumbs-downs at him. "WEAK!" one of them yelled.

"The … uh … Destructor?" Dipper added.

The manotaurs liked his name better, and made replies of affirmation.

Chutzpar banged the gong again, rattling Dipper's head with the sound.

"DIPPER THE DESTRUCTOR WANTS US TO TEACH HIM THE SECRETS TO OUR MANLINESS!" announced Chutzpar.

"I need your help!" cried Dipper. He pulled down the front of his collar. "Look at this, guys! Look at this!"The manotaurs had never seen such a bald chest.

"I must confer with the high council," said Testosteraur. He huddled with the other mantaurs to discuss the issue. "So, teach him our man secrets or what?"

"He's a human," said Pituitaur. "I don't like him."

"I DON'T LIKE YOUR FACE!" countered Testosteraur. He punched him, and the huddle broke up into a fourteen-fisted fight.

"I like these guys," Dipper decided while punches were thrown and teeth went flying.

ZKHQ L DVNHG IRU VRQV?

Stan was in his underwear, rolling playing cards between his hands in the dining room. Mabel walked in with a camera.

"OK, Grunkle Stan," she said to him. "Welcome to the first day of whatever is left of your life." She took hold of her camera. "First, a before picture."

As the flash went off, Stan jumped in surprise, scattering his cards. The result was a photo of him blinking the flash out of his eyes with cards flying around him.

"I never miss a scrapbook-ortunity," said Mabel as she gazed at the photo. Opening her scrapbook of Summer Memories, she searched for an open page, and stuck the photo in, humming "Deedle-de-dum. Memories. Bleep."

"Let's start out with some role play," she said, gesturing to Soos. "Soos will play Lazy Susan." He was dressed as Lazy Susan, complete with makeup and pretend lazy eye. "I'm soft, like a woman," he said.

"Grunkle Stan," addressed Mabel. "Show me how you approach a woman." Nervously tugging the collar of his undershirt, Grunkle Stan complied. "Remember that this is a safe, nonjudgmental environment," reminded Mabel. "I'll just be right off to the side, judging you on a scale from one to ten." She held a notebook and a quill pen as she spoke.

Stan approached Soos, already imagining himself approaching the real Lazy Susan. He paused in front of Soos, hocked, spat, and asked, "Can I borrow some money?"

The sound of an angry shrill whistle answered him. Mabel spat out the coaching whistle, and muttered, "This is gonna be harder than I thought."

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"After a lot of punching," said Testosteraur to Dipper, "we have decided to deny your request to learn our manly secrets."

"DENIED!" echoed Pituitaur, punching his own face.

"Denied?" asked Dipper disappointed. He came to these guys just to be turned down? Not if he had something to say about it.

"OK, fine," he replied. "That's OK with me. Obviously you guys think it would be too hard to train me. Maybe, you're not _man_ enough to try!"

This outraged several of the manotaurs. "NOT MAN ENOUGH?" cried Testosteraur.

"Destructor," warned Chutzpar.

"NOT _MAN_ ENOUGH?!" Testosteraur bellowed, stomping towards Dipper. But Dipper wasn't afraid. This was exactly what he expected.

"He didn't mean it," replied Chutzpar, trying to scoff away Dipper's insult.

"I have THREE Y chromosomes, SIX Adam's apples, PECS on my ABS, AND FISTS FOR NIPPLES!" Testosteraur yelled, revealing the latter part of his statement to be true.

Dipper wasn't fazed. "Seems to me you're _scared_ to teach me how to be a man," he replied. "Hey! Do you guys hear that?" He feigned surprise. "It sounds like – bok, bok, bok. Oh, that's weird – bok-ah, ah. Is that – bok, bok-ah. That sounds like – bok-ah – yeah, a bunch of _chickens_!"

There was a collective gasp from the manotaurs, and they rehuddled.

"I feel all weird," said Testosteraur.

"He's using some sort of brain magic," agreed Pubetaur.

They broke up the huddle in a matter of seconds. "After a second round of deliberation," said Testosteraur, "we have decided to help you become a man!"

"MAN! MAN!" chanted the manotaurs.

"Great!" exclaimed Dipper. "Thanks guys. Whatever it is, I will not let you down!"

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Everyone was assembled in the living room, awaiting as Wendy descended the stairs before me. I could hear everything that was said downstairs.

"Is she ready, Wendy?" Mabel asked excitedly. "Did it work?"

"Well … " Wendy didn't know how to put it politely, and I couldn't blame her. "Why don't you come up and see?"

I couldn't walk out of her room without risking being seen by unwanted eyes. Not that what I wore was immodest by any means, but there was another problem that I ran into as we were pulling up the zipper.

"Uh oh." Mabel could already see the problem.

I hid my annoyance behind a deadpan. "I'm stuck," I told her. Not only was the dress two sizes too small, but the zipper got stuck in the middle of my back. Along with some of my hair.

"How would you feel if you had to lose a couple of inches?" Mabel asked me.

"Of hair or weight?" I asked.

"How do I say this politely?" Mabel whispered to Wendy.

I was done here. "Can I ask _why_ we're doing this? Because I would like to quit and find a way out of this dress."

"Wendy, get a pair of scissors and find a way to fix that zipper," Mabel ordered. "I'm gonna get back to work on Stan, and look for a corset."

"A _corset_?! You're gonna suffocate me! Do you know how tight those things are … "

"This is gonna be tougher than I thought," mumbled Mabel as she left the room. 

PLVWHU, L'OO … PDNH D PDQ …

Dipper was lead by the manotaurs outside the man cave into the mountains to start his training.

"Being a man is about conquering your fears," said Chutzpar to Dipper.

"For your first man task," said Testosteraur, " you must plunge your fist – INTO THE PAIN HOLE!" He pointed at a hole with a sign labeled with the name.

The manotaurs winced at the sight of it.

Dipper didn't like the sight of it either. "The wha- ..."

To demonstrate, Testosteraur headed to the Pain Hole, and shoved a fist inside it. "Pain Hole, Shmain Hol – AAAHHH! AAAAAHHHH! AAAAA-AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" He smakced his own face, it was so painful. He pulled his hand free, and ran off.

Dipper approached the Pain Hole himself, feeling uncertain. Was manhood worth this?

"Are you sure this is really necessary?" he asked Chutzpar.

"You wanna be a man, don't you?" Chutzpar replied.

"Man! Man! Man! Man! Man! Man! Man!" chanted the other manotaurs. A couple got each other into headlocks and punched each other in the face as they chanted.

With everyone else watching and – possibly – supporting him, Dipper gave a determined look, before reaching a hand into the hole.

And screaming at the top of his lungs.

A flock of birds flew away at the sound.

RXW RI BRX!

Back at the Mystery Shack, in the dining room:

"All right," said Mabel to her cranky-faced uncle. "Let's try to get that inner beauty on the _outside_. Smile harder."

Stan gave a full toothed over stretched smile. It looked painful.

"_Harder_."

Stan stretched his lips farther.

"Perfect!" his niece affirmed. "Soos!"

Soos (not dressed as Lazy Susan anymore) came out of the kitchen with a sandwich in hand. "What's up, Hambone?" he asked.

"What do you think?" Mabel motioned to Stan.

He looked at Stan, saw his constipated-looking face, and ran screaming out of the Mystery Shack.

"Ugh," Mabel sighed. "This is going to take some really great training music."

Mabel pulled out a CD containing a mix of training music, and popped it into a music player.

ZH PXVW EH VZLIW DV D FRXUVLQJ ULYHU

_When the tiger roars, _

Dipper was pulling a cart like a horse, carrying manotaurs and the horse that usually dragged it.

_And the mountain cries,_

Mabel took some cucumber slices from a plate that Wendy held, and place them over Isannah's eyes. But instead of trying to relax and allow the facial treatment go to work, she kept eating the cucumbers. She hadn't had lunch yet.

_You gotta dream the dream_

Mabel was in the bathroom with Stan, trying to shave off his excessive chest hair. As she shaved down an area, the hair sprouted back in place.

_You gotta win the prize._

Dipper stood shirtless in front of Chutzpar, who squirted glue on his bare chest. The manotaur then ripped chest off himself and shoved on Dipper's glued chest.

Wendy and Mabel cheered Stan on as he precariously balanced a stack of books on his fez.

_You gotta go the miles, you gotta face the trials!_

Sweat poured off Dipper's brow as he crossed river infested with alligators. The manotaurs cheered him on from the opposite bank as he walked over the reptiles backs.

Mabel held a sign in front of Stan that said "Stop Scratching," while he tried to scratch himself with oven-mitted hands. She smacked him with the sign to get his attention, and showed him another that said "Eye Contact."

_Never loose sight of the sights you see, You gotta believe your beliefs are real._

The manotaurs pinned Dipper down and stretched his eyelids open to keep him reading two posters in their cave that read "Glory" and "Honor."

_Now you're drinking from a fire hydrant,_

After destroying another fire hydrant and drinking from it, Chutzpar let Dipper take a swig. But when he tried, it burst open and a pressurized stream fired at him.

_Teach your best friend how to wear a corset._

Mabel fitted a corset around Isannah's abdomen with satisfaction. Until she inhaled and the laces came undone. Mabel facepalmed and shook her head.

_Now you're gonna jump a crazy gorge._

Dipper took a running start and leaped over a deep gorge. And fell into it.

_Keep on shaving that hairy uncle._

Mabel madly shaved the ever growing hair on Stan's chest, but to no avail. She later helped him to stick out his chest and to stand proud and fearless, while somewhere far away, Dipper was taught by the manotaurs to slump and drop his gut over his belt.

_Uh, … I don't really know what's happening at this part._

Dipper took another try at leaping over the gorge, and found himself flying.

_Yow! Your heart's on fire, and the fire's in your heart!_

Dipper landed on the other side without incident. He slapped himself a high five to celebrate, but the action caused him to tip back and fall into the gorge.

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After passing many manhood trials, Dipper and the manotaurs relaxed in a hot spring, sitting in pools of lava heated water. It felt rewarding after all the work he did to get to where he was now, nearly complete with his tasks, wearing a loincloth, and chilling out with his buddy Chutzpar.

"Guys," Dipper addressed them. "I just wanna say that these last few hours have been … I-I feel like there's really been some growth."

"I have a growth!" said one the manotaurs, pointing to a boil-like growth on his face.

"Clark, you are hilarious today!" declared Dipper laughingly.

Clark winked at him like the two were old pals sharing an inside joke.

"Ah," Dipper sighed. "It's just you guys took me under your wing, and have just been so supportive – "

"Oh, stop," said Chutzpar modestly.

"No, you know what? You really have been. I feel like I'm finally becoming a man here."

"Not yet, Destructor. One final task remains. The deadliest trial of all."

Dipper wasn't fazed. "I've survived forty-nine other trials. Whatever it is, BRING IT ON!"

The other manotaurs cheered in response.

ZLWK DOO WKH VWRHQJWK RI D UDJLQJ ILUH

Deep inside a skull littered cave, torches and braziers were lit as manotaurs gathered to watch Dipper face his last trial. Chutzpar and Dipper stood on rock stage, readying to approach the leader of the manotaurs with his request. Chutzpar licked a stick-on temporary tattoo that read "Rad Dude," and stamped it on Dipper's arm. He was covered in other similar tattoos, one that read "Too Cool" on his other arm, and one of a skull with wings and another of a burning brazier on his chest and belly.

Some of the manotaurs knelt while others behind them took bones and drummed on their horned heads.

"Behold our leader," Chutzpar said to Dipper. "LEADERAUR!"

Out of the dark entrance into the cave chamber, an ancient manotaur holding a spear and giving off an offensive order hummed absentmindedly to himself as he walked down the aisle of other manotaurs.

"Is he like the oldest or wisest or – " asked Dipper.

"Greetings, young – " began the old manotaur feebly, before a pair of jaws snapped him up and caused him to cry out in surprise and pain.

Dipper was taken back. But Chutzpar only said, "Nah, he's just the offering. _That_ is Leaderaur." He pointed to a high rock platform where a black manotaur over thirty feet high, swallowing the poor old manotaur. The beast turned to face them, causing the cave to shake with a single hoof beat. A couple of huge scars covered his chest.

"YOU," growled Leaderaur to Dipper. "YOU WISH TO BE MAN?"

In response, Dipper growled and slapped his chest.

"YEAH!" cheered the manotaurs.

"THEN YOU MUST DO HEROIC ACT," replied the red eyed leader. "GO TO HIGHEST MOUNTAIN ..." He reached inside one of his pecs, screaming in pain as he did. Dipper watched aghast, until the manotaur pulled a spear made of bone from his heart. "… AND BRING BACK HEAD OF _THE MULTI-BEAR_."

He tossed the spear to Dipper, and the other manotaurs gasped at the challenge set before him.

"The Multi-Bear?" Dipper asked. "Is that some sort of bear?"

"HE'S OUR SWORN ENEMY," explained Leaderaur, clenching his fists at the thought of the beast. "CONQUER HIM, AND YOUR MANS-FORMATION WILL BE COMPLETE."

"Conquer?" asked Dipper uneasily. He hadn't heard of many people conquering a bear single-handed with a spear. Least of all twelve-year-olds. "Uh … I don't know, man."

Chutzpar meanwhile was looting through Dipper's backpack, and found CD of a _BABBA_ Disco Girl album. "Destructor, is this _yours_?"

"Uh, no! Heh, ha." Dipper swiped the CD from his hand. "I-huh-I don't know whose that is. J-just borrowing it, friend's, not mine …" He tried to hide it, but the other manotaurs had caught on. There was some grumbles and mutters amongst them. "I don't know about this …" one of them muttered.

Dipper knew that his manhood was at stake now with the revelation of that album. He looked back at the lethal weapon that was given to him.

He scowled. He wouldn't come home to be teased. Not again.

He took up the spear. "I shall conquer the Mutli-Bear!"

The manotaurs cheered, and Leaderaur snorted jets of flames from his nostrils. The fire shot into the ceiling, causing it to rain down flaming pebbles. One of them landed on Dipper's shoulder, and he shrieked with terror, frantically patting it til burned out. "I'm okay."

PBVWHULRXV DV WKH GDUN VLGH RI WKH PRRQ!


	21. Ch20: DvsM: To Be Or Not To Be (A Man)

Chapter 21: Dipper vs. Manliness: To Be Or Not To Be (A Man)

With a track of epic music playing in his head, Dipper ran through the forest to his destiny. Slicing tree limbs out of his path with his spear, he never broke his pace.

He climbed a tall pine, scaling it as nimbly as a squirrel. As he reached the peak, he gazed out at pine landscape, into the distance, where a dark mountain stood like a monster's tooth, shrouded in a ghost-like haze. The sky darkened before the heat of the battle, and lightning streaked the sky, daring him to continue on his journey. He accepted the challenge.

Down by a stream, Dipper cupped water into his hands and drank alongside a deer. As the two stood up, Dipper nodded knowingly to him, and the buck nodded back.

The oncoming storm spewed lightning between crags in the mountain's face, seeming to taunt Dipper as he trekked up the mountain But he was undaunted. After some wild leaps and scaling a cliff face with his bare hands, he made it. To entrance to the cave of the Multi-Bear.

Thunder crashed as Dipper armed himself with his spear.

"I'm coming for you, Multi-Bear," Dipper whispered into the cave.

The storm thundered a retort as he stalked inside.

ZH PXVW EH VZLIW DV D FRXUVLQJ ULYHU

Soos and Wendy gather with Mabel and Stan in the living room. The young adult, teen, and tween sat on Stan's chair as Mabel evaluated their progress on him.

"OK, Isannah and Grunkle Stan," said Mabel. "You started like this …" She held up a 'before' picture of her uncle in his under clothes and Isannah in her thrift shop clothes as a comparison. " … but you becaaame … "

As she dropped the pictures, she didn't like what she saw. Stan was dirty, coated in sweat stains, missing a slipper, had a cotton swab stuck in his ear, and seemed even more clueless than before. There were flies buzzing around his B.O.

As for me, I was no better. My hair was arranged in a precarious bun with booby pins sticking haphazardly out of my head. The borrowed green dress was streaked with dust from my efforts of trying to fit into it. With the corset tight around my belly and the dress tight around everything else, I looked like stalk of broccoli trying to be a stalk of celery. (I still haven't had lunch, can you tell?)

"Can I scratch myself now?" Stan asked.

"Can I breathe?" My voice squeaked like air leaking out of a beach ball. The corset was so painfully tight. I felt a lace loosen in the back as I spoke.

"No!" said Mabel in frustrated disappointment. "No no no! Is that throw up on your shirt?

I thought she was talking to me at first, but realized that she was addressing Stan. He paused and looked down at the front of his undershirt.

"I don't know how to answer that."

I heard a clock chime, and glanced at it on the wall.

"Omigosh! It's six already?! I need to get to the diner!" As I panicked, the corset came undone and fell off. I sucked in air hungrily, and dashed upstairs.

"Iz, wait! I haven't evaluated you yet!" yelled Mabel from downstairs. Huffing frustratedly, she tore the two 'before' pictures in half, threw back her head and the four halves carelessly in defeat. A whole day trying to prep the two for their big chances at dating for nothing.

Wendy knew how much Mabel worked, and tried to encourage her. "Face it, Mabel," she said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Your uncle and Isannah are unfixable. Like that spinning pie trolley thing in the diner."

Mabel's head snapped forward, and a braced smile widened on her face.

"Grunkle Stan, come with me," she said, leaping off the chair and running into the hall. "And leave your pants at home."

"With pleasure," he said, following her out. He had no idea where this was going, but already liked the sound of it.

I rushed downstairs, still brushing my hair with my left hand while texting Simon with my right. Wendy and Soos were still in the living room.

"What time is it now, guys?" I asked them, pulling my blonde hair into a ponytail.

"Uh, six oh one, I think," replied Soos, glancing at a non-existent watch on his wrist.

"Gosh, I can't believe how much time I'm wasting!" I wiped some makeup off my face. The amount Mabel was making me wear was excessive.

"OK, I'll just take the golf cart down – where the keys, Wendy?"

She ran to the dining room, grabbed the keys off the table, and tossed them to me. "Thanks!" I called. "Leave the door unlocked for me later!"

I ran out to the golf cart, half wondering where Mabel, Stan, and his car were.

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Dipper stalked into the cave, ready for anything. Until he heard a crunch under his foot. He glanced down, and found that he stepped on a bone. He noticed the cave was littered with them. He suddenly felt a little confused, a lot curious, and perhaps somewhat apprehensive.

He picked up a bone, searching for bite marks.

"What is a Multi-Bear?"

As he pondered, a large creature growled awake, and stood up on it's hind legs. Dipper heard it, and spun his head toward the noise. Over twenty feet high, stood a monster unlike any Dipper would have imagined, with saliva dripping from it's fangs.

"Oh, _that's_ a Multi-Bear."

With four fused bodies – minus legs – holding eight heads, the creature seemed both formidable and confusing. A pair of bears acted as legs, but used their four arms for legs and didn't have a lower half. They were connected at the waist with the upper half of the rest of the beast, which consisted of five heads and four arms. Four of the five heads rested a little lower below the neck of the dominant head and one of these heads roared.

The "head" head above him said, "Bear heads, silence!"

When the head ignored him and continued to roar, a paw slapped his nose and reprimanded him til he whimpered in submission.

The dominant head then addressed Dipper. "Child, why have you come here?"

Dipper put on a brave scowl. "Multi-Bear, I seek your head. Or … one of them anyway – there's like what, six – six heads?"

"This is foolish!" replied the monstrosity. "Leave now, or die!"

Dipper's scowl deepened, and he brandished his spear in defiance.

"So be it," consented the Multi-Bear, his other heads scowling. The heads all roared in succession, the sound so loud it caused stones and bones to blow away and pellet themselves towards Dipper. He nearly lost his grip on the spear, and it spun in his hands til he caught it. The Multi-Bear got down on all eight, pawed the ground, and charged.

Dipper ran up the wall, and leaped off the ceiling, evading the Multi-Bear's charge. He gave a growl at the bear, and the creature screeched to a halt. Dipper could see another whole bear fused into the creature's back, utterly useless in defending the multi-monster.

The Multi-Bear, enraged at Dipper's agile trick, stopped by a pile of bones, and smacked the the sharp shards towards him. Dipper took shelter behind a rock as bones lodged themselves into the cave wall behind him. As the bear stomped towards his hiding spot, Dipper looked at a scrape his elbow suffered from the onslaught. It only encouraged him to win.

"Ha!" He leaped atop the rock, spear pointed at the monster.

One of the lower heads roared, and launched itself forward to bite him. But Dipper jumped before the jaws could latch on him, and ran up it's body to one of the four heads encircling the neck. He jumped on a head, and another behind him roared in anger, but was silenced as Dipper jumped upon his head. Dipper then leaped behind the dominant head, pulled his spear over it and pressed the weapon against it's windpipe. The dominant head roared in surprise and panic, but couldn't shake Dipper off. Like a massive tree, the Mutli-Bear fell to the cave floor in a cloud of dust. The dominant head of the beast found Dipper, pointing the spear at his face.

"A real man shows no mercy!" cried Dipper, raising the spear to strike.

The defeated monster sighed. "Very well, warrior," replied the dominant head. "But will you grant a magical beast one last request?"

Dipper was confused, but complied. "Uh … OK." He lowered his weapons.

"I wish to die listening to my favorite song." The bear looked across the cave toward a tape player that had a sticker that read "Cool Guy" on it. Dipper left the monster to play the music.

"Tape is already in there. You can just hit any – "

Dipper pressed a button, and the tape started.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it," affirmed the bear.

Dipper couldn't believe it. He checked the case of the tape to see if he was hearing right. The tape was playing "Disco Girl!"

"You listen to Icelandic pop group _BABBA_?" Dipper asked. "I-I love _BABBA_."

"I thought that I was the only one," said the Multi-Bear. "All the Manotaurs make fun of me because I know all the words to the song 'Disco Girl.'"

"Oh, you mean 'Disco Girl …' "

"Coming through … '"

The two knew the last line by heart. "That girl is you! Ooo-ooo, ooo-ooo!"

Dipper laughed. "This is crazy! Finally, someone who-who understands – uh. Oh yeah." The joy of finding a fellow fan quickly turned to sadness. "I guess I'm supposed to kill you – or I'll never be a man?"

"I accept my fate," replied the Multi-Bear nobly.

"No! … Really?"

"It's for the best."

Dipper couldn't bear to kill the beast. Not knowing that they both appreciated something that everyone else shunned them for.

He made up his mind.

He raised his spear …

… and threw it along with the final challenge before Leaderaur's throne. The manotaurs gathered in the cave gasped.

"I'm not gonna do it!" defied Dipper.

Leaderaur didn't expect this. "YOU WERE TOLD! THE PRICE OF MANHOOD WAS THE MULTI-BEAR'S HEAD!" he growled.

"Listen, Leaderaur, all right?" cried Dipper, turning to face the crowd. "You too Testosteraur, Pituataur, and … I don't know, whatever your name is – B-Beardy!"

"It's Beardy," the addressed manotaur replied.

"You keep telling me that being a man means doing all these tasks and being accrual all the time. But I'm starting to think that stuff's malarkey."

The manotaurs gasped at his audacity.

"You heard me: malarkey! So maybe I don't have muscles or hair in certain places and … sure, when a girly pop song comes on the radio, _sometimes_ I leave it on. 'Cause dang it! – Top forty hits are in the top forty for a reason: they're catchy!"

"Destructor." Dipper turned to Chutzpar. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying the Multi-Bear is a really nice guy." Dipper scowled at him. "And you're a bunch of jerks if you want me to cut off his head!"

Leaderaur rose from his throne, and furiously dashed the spear Dipper threw back to him aside. The crowd gasped at their insulted leader.

"KILL THE MULTI-BEAR OR NEVER BE A MAN!" bellowed Leaderaur.

But Dipper only stood silent.

"Then I guess I'll never be a man," he replied.

"Boo!" cried a voice. "Weak!"

Dipper glanced at Chutzpar as he and the crowd of gather manotaurs booed him to scorn. His number one supporters were cutting their ties.

"Hey guys," called Chutzpar. "Who wants to go build something and knock it down?"

The crowd cheered at this idea, and the every manotaur, including Leaderaur, ran out of the cave chanting "MAN! MAN! MAN! MAN!"

Dipper kicked a stone in their direction, and left on his own path.

ZLWK DOO WKH VWRHQJWK RI D UDJLQJ ILUH

Back at Greasy's Diner, Lazy Susan was still having issues with the pie trolley. No amount of pounding or yelling seemed to work.

"Speein! Speein!" she pounded.

The bell over the exit door rang. Mabel walked in with and under-dressed Stan Pines, clutching his hand and guiding him toward the waitress.

"Lazy Susan," Mabel addressed her. "Listen, I know he's not much to look at, but you're always fixing stuff in the diner. And if you like fixing stuff, nothing could use more fixing than my Grunkle Stan. Also, women live longer than men so your dating poll is smaller and you should really lower your standards."

Stan approached her, knowing fully well he had no idea how to talk to her. "So, Lazy Susan, huh … what do ya say?"

Lazy Susan looked him up and down with her good eye. And turned away to the kitchen.

Stan's face fell, and he and his niece turned to the exit.

"Heey!" Lazy Susan called. In her hand was a slip of paper with a number written in red ink. "Here's my numbeer. Why don't you give me a call sometiime?"

Stan turned back, and reached for the slip. "Really?"

"Really!" Lazy Susan chuckled, and placed a plate with a slice of pie on one of the booth's tables. "Also, here's some piie. On the house. For you." She turned back to the kitchen, and Mabel squealed.

"We did it!" she cried jubilantly. She ran into the booth with Stan, who got started on his pie. "When are you gonna call?- You wanna call _now_? - I don't have a phone. - Let's buy a phone! - We can put it on a credit card. - Let's get a credit card!"

"Mabel, let a man enjoy his pie, huh?" Stan wasn't apprehensive anymore. Having a girlfriend was already having it's benefits.

The bell over the door jingled as I entered inside the diner with Simon and his mother. Jenny Ann Zealot was a short woman, just under four foot eight, the right sort of size for fitting under cars. She shared her son's freckly face and his cute button nose. Her skin was sunburn red, and her hair was silvery white, tied back into a bandana. Jenny Ann was the town's only mechanic, and though she was sometimes called to help Bud Gleeful to fix a used car, she and him had anything but a working relationship.

"The man is always cheerful, so I never know what his true feelings are on my work," she complained as we walked in.

"At least he pays you," I offered as a condolence.

"Yeah, but you should've seen how big his smile was when we towed in a car from the accident earlier today. The driver claimed that his brake didn't work and he just purchased it from Bud that hour. Bud had such a tight smile I thought he was constipa – "

"Iz!" I heard my name, and found Mabel waving at me from a booth. "You didn't tell me that you were going on your date here. But what happened to your dress and corset?"

"Date?" asked Simon confusedly.

"What are you talking about?" I asked her, approaching her booth.

"Isn't that what you were calling Simon about earlier today?" she asked, just as confused. "You said you wanted to go out tonight and not have anyone know about it."

Then I finally figured out what dressing up today was all about. "Wait … you overheard my conversation with Simon and thought that we were going out on a date?"

Simon and I glanced at each other. And burst out laughing. Stan and Mrs. Zealot gave us funny looks.

"Oh – that – that is too funny!" gasped Simon.

"Wow, my blonde is _really_ showing today. I had no clue!" I laughed.

"No wait a minute, what's going on here?" demanded Mabel, who looked rather unamused.

"Oh – I'm – I'm sorry, Mabel," I replied, as the final giggles escaped my throat. "You misunderstood. Simon and I aren't dating. I'm just taking him and mom out for dinner. It's to pay back for towing the golf cart for me last week. I'm just doing this as a favor."

"So … you too _aren't_ into each other?" she asked.

"Pretty sure we're not," replied Simon.

"Aw … then it didn't work," sighed Mabel sadly.

"Uh, Mabel, Simon and I are just friends," I said. "And we're fine that way, right?" I asked him.

"Oh definitely!" His mother flicked his head. "I mean, she's a pretty cool friend, and I like hanging out with her, but we don't share those feelings for each other," he answered more tactfully.

"And while the corset was a torture, it was still kinda fun getting to do that with you," I told her.

Mabel smiled.

"Besides, I now know who to get to when I do start dating."

"And then we give a mani-pedi!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"First, I should get a dress that actually fits." With that, the Zealots and I seated ourselves in the booth behind them.

"Did I hear something about you wearing a corset?" Simon asked, a smile playing on his freckles.

"Long story," I replied.

Mabel smiled with satisfaction. Though she couldn't help with an actual date, she still felt good knowing that it worked in her uncle's favor. She glanced out the window, and saw her twin.

Dipper was pulling his shirt back on over him, and placed his hat depressingly on his head. Arriving back to where he started, and worse than when he left.

"Dipper!" He glanced in the direction of the voice, and saw his sister pounding the glass of one the diner's windows. She couldn't contain her excitement.

"It's me, Mabel! I'm looking at you through the glass! Right here! This is my voice! I'm talking to you from inside!"

I heard Mabel calling to her brother, and glancing out the window, I saw him. He glanced around uneasily, and nodded to her that she had his attention. He didn't want her getting any from anyone else.

"I was wondering where that kid's been," I muttered. He seemed rather disappointed about something.

"You guys don't mind if I talk with him and see how he's doing, do ya?" I asked Simon and his mother. They didn't.

Dipper walked inside, and climbed into the booth with his family.

Mabel started again. "Did you see me through the – "

"Yes," Dipper sighed.

Mabel and I heard the gloomy tone in his voice. "What's wrong?" I asked, half-leaning over the seat behind Dipper's head.

Dipper fixed his gaze under the table."I don't want to talk about it."

"Good," replied Stan. I wanted to flick him for his lack of tact.

"It's all right, Dipper," I told him. "Whatever's wrong, we'll … " I glanced over at Mabel and Stan, still eating his pie. "... Mabel and I will support you."

Dipper felt like he needed support. The support of true friends. "It's just these half-man half-bull humanoids were hanging out with me …"

"Here we go," replied an annoyed Stan. I tried to ignore him.

" … but then they wanted me to do this really tough, horrible thing, but it just wasn't right. So I said 'no.'"

To my surprise, Stan had actually listened."You were your own man and you stood up for yourself," he surmised, eating a forkful of cherry pie.

"Huh?" Dipper asked.

"Eh, you did what was right even though no one agreed with ya. Sounds pretty manly to me, but ... what do I know?" he said between mouthfuls.

Dipper smiled. He did know what it meant to be man.

I had no reference as to what this all meant, but I felt happy for Dipper nevertheless.

"Wait a minute, do my eyes deceive me?" asked his sister. She climbed over the table, and looked hard at the front of his shirt. "You have a chest hair!"

Dipper pulled down his collar, and saw the single hair follicle. "You're right. I do!"

Dipper laughed almost disbelievingly at his new achievement. "This is amazing! I really do! Take that, Man Tester! Take that, Pituitaur!"

Stan and I blinked.

"Pituitaur?" We asked.

"This guy has chest hair!"

His sister took a pair of tweezers, and pulled it free. She placed it inside her scrapbook.

"Scrapbook-ertunity," she smiled.

Dipper was so disappointed he couldn't speak.

"Don't worry kid," said Stan, who found the ordeal hilarious but wouldn't say so. "If you're anything like me there's plenty more where that came from." To demonstrate, he ripped his undershirt, revealing a chest and round belly of gray hairs.

"Oh, gro-ho-oss!" Dipper tried to be disgusted, but was too busy laughing to care. His twin and uncle laughed with him.

"Seriously," I said, unamused. "That's disgusting."

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The next day, Stan was in the living room flipping through TV channels, and I was in there with him, reading a book from my English class. The telephone by his chair went off. It was an old dial phone. I thought it a tad strange that Stan never replace it. Or that he had a phone to talk with people at all.

"Aw, not again!" he moaned.

We heard it go to voicemail. Again.

_"Message number: thirty-six. Beep." _

"Heey Handsome! It's me, Lazy Susan, callin' to say 'hiiee.' Hiiee! My caats also wanted to say 'hiiee.' Say 'hi', Donald."

"Meow."

"Good! Sandy, you say 'hiiee.'"

"Meow."

"Mr. Catface, now it's your turn to say – "

"Mewrrroww!"

"Mr. Catface!"

"Reeeeerrr!"

"Anyway, caall me! Call me baack!" The phone clicked off.

"How do I get out of this?!" Stan asked himself.

_And Mabel wonders why I haven't gotten a boyfriend yet?_ I thought.

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	22. Ch 21: Fixin' It With Soos: Mystery Cart

Chapter 22: Fixin' It With Soos: Mystery Cart

I was on a boardwalk. Old as the city it ran by. The wood was grayed with age and sea storms, and sand spilled from several grassy dunes over the top the guard rail that ran on it.

I could feel the blinding sun on my face and the unceasing wind in my hair; hear the crashing waves and the flapping flag hanging above the life guard's station; smell the miles of hot white sand between me and the ocean.

That beautiful cloud-gray, algae-green, sky-blue ocean. Those overpowering waves that could knock me head over heels in one blow. The overwhelming briny flavor that I often mistakenly swallowed. How I wanted to taste it again.

I ran down a wooden staircase and up over a sand dune path paved with pebbles and plant burrs. When the azure waters were in sight, I charged down the sand, not caring if I ran barefoot over the blistering hot sand.

I was home!

As I followed foot prints across the grainy landscape of black and white shells, I saw families lounging and laughing in folding chairs, and their children jumping into the breakers. I recognized some of them as neighbors, a couple of old friends from high school, and my own family.

My dad and mom were sitting side by side in folding chairs, chatting about work and making jokes about their in-laws. Just like they used to do. My three brothers were leaping into the waves, Immanuel's bare shoulders getting sunburned while Ian's bare shoulders tanned, and Isaiah chased after a beach ball that rolled back to shore with the last wave.

This was my home.

This was my family.

How I missed it all so much!

I was almost there.

Almost to the ocean.

Almost home!

My brothers focused their attention on me as I took a flying leap for the waves.

Isaiah seemed to gasp. Then said, "Iz!"

I looked directly at him as I slowly descended. "Isaiah?"

"Come on Iz!" he called urgently.

"You can talk now?"

"Wake up! Wake up, Iz!"

"But … "

I could almost feel the cold water on my toes …

"Iz, you'll be late for school!"

I jackknifed awake. Something had fallen on my stomach.

"YOOOOW!" I found myself face to face with Mabel's braces.

"Good morning, Iz!" she smiled brightly. She crawled off me as I rubbed my eyes. "Sorry to jump on you like that but, IT'S NINE THIRTY AND YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!"

"What?!" I grabbed my alarm clock. It was stuck at quarter to eight.

"Oh no, the batteries must be dead! I'm gonna be late!"

Mabel hurried out, and I slammed the door closed and rushed to get ready.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man – OK, OK, just calm down and walk through your daily routine … Fast!"

I started for the door, then turned around. "All right, no time for a shower. Let's get dressed."

I bumped into my dresser on my way to get to it. Rubbing my sore hip, I shuffled through mostly empty drawers.

"What do I have? What do I have – oh come on, no clean laundry? All right, I guess this will have to do for now. Hair, hair,hair – where's my hairbrush? And … I have no more contacts. Of course. Come on, Iz, focus!"

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The twins had a busy day planned for themselves. Mabel was assisting Stan in designing fliers and gathering supplies for the party they planned on having that weekend, and Dipper was gonna help Soos fix up the Mystery Cart and get another "Fixin' It With Soos" tape under his belt.

Dipper was busy setting up a camera on a tripod in the living room for one of the scenes. He had finally managed to balance it correctly when I ran in and tripped over an extension cord in the middle of the carpet. I fell to the floor, and the camera fell on me.

"Iz? Iz, are you OK?" cried Dipper, shoving the tripod off me.

"Sorry, Dipper, I'm running late for school," I apologized.

"In _that_?"

I wasn't sure what he meant at first. But as I stood up, I realized he meant my hasty get up. I was wearing the only clean clothes I could find, but never stopped to take a serious look at them. I was dressed in a pair of shredded orange jean shorts, a pair of green and red stripe toe socks, and an old purple T-shirt from a church convention that was stained with blue paint and now one size too small. There were yellow and pink obnoxious letters printed on it that said "JESUS LOVES YOU!" (I appreciated the message, but not the colors.)

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," I replied. I didn't sound as dismissive as I wanted to be.

"And since when did you start wearing glasses?"

"I'm far-sighted, but I usually wear contacts – I've got to go!" I rushed to the dining room to grab my backpack.

"Just don't let Mabel see you!" warned Dipper.

"I told you, it's not that – "

As I ran for the front door, Mabel walked in. In no less than a millisecond of seeing me, she screamed, and fainted.

I leaped over her, and ran down out the drive, passing Stan as he unloaded some supplies from his car.

As I turned down the road, I heard Stan yell behind me. "Soos, get my bat! Some colorful monster scared Mabel and ran out the front door!"

I bounded for the schoolhouse, dread churning acidly in my stomach.

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Donella Finn shuffled her book bag under desk where it could be in easy reach. Dr. Alchemy smiled to her as he greeted the students and prepared to write up some scientific terms on the chalkboard behind him.

Donella blew her short cropped black bangs of her forehead, and boredly scanned the chalkboard. She didn't bother to fake smiles for him or the other professors anymore. She wasn't going to hide her true attitude of having to pose as an Irish intern working to become an English professor in North America: she hated every minute of it.

She had other options, _better_ options at that, than to spend her day time hours in a sweaty run down schoolhouse with boisterous American students. Why she was after choosing the summer semester to play the student was simply an alibi so that the IFPF wouldn't be after her for being there without a visa. Or for her other illegal activities.

_It's now day twenty of me arriving in North America, day twelve of me arriving in Gravity Falls, and one day too many having to sit through another biology lab_, Donella wrote in her notebook. She needed to keep record of her days in the States; she didn't feel the need to take notes. _I already know how everything in the universe functions. There's anything this professor can't teach me that I already know. But I think that saying so would offend him. Or would it? He doesn't notice everyone in the room texting under the table, interrupting with obvious questions, or – _

The door slammed opened, and all heads turned as if pulled on a connected string toward it's direction.

_… arriving late._

"Sorry, Dr. Alchemy. My alarm clock didn't go off."

Donella didn't think that excused her from what she was wearing. She heard the group of friends she termed "Gossip Gaggle" giggling unabashedly, and several whispered comments from other students floated around the room. The freshman in ridiculous colors and ill-fitting clothing kept her eyes aimed at the floor as she took the only seat at the very front row of the room. Donella would have felt bad for her, but knew she chose to dress that way. The poor girl was only bringing that upon herself.

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"F-f-f-fixin' it with _Soos_!"

Fixin' It With Soos theme –

Scene: Soos' room with Soos, Dipper, and Wendy. Wendy and Dipper are in the background, and Soos is in the foreground, leaning a hand on a table.

"Hey dudes," waves Soos at the camera. "And welcome back to another episode of Fixin' It With Soos, the show where I always forget that I'm leaning on the soldering iron." Saying so, he screaming as his hand burned from the soldering iron he had still plugged in.

– Scene transition –

Same scene, but Soos now has his hand bandaged.

"What needs fixing today?" he asks Wendy and Dipper.

"Well, me and Dipper were just doing normal work stuff with the golf cart," explains Wendy.

Video cuts to a recording of Wendy and Dipper in the golf cart, chanting "Jump! Jump! Jump!" They were trying to drive the cart up a ramp and over Stan's car onto another ramp on the other side of it. But as they slowly climbed the ramp, it tipped over and hit the ground, loosing a wheel and it's megaphone. As the two groaned from the fall, one of the tires caught fire.

Scene: Everyone now sits on the couch in the living room as Wendy finishes the story.

"So now the cart's busted for some reason. You think you can fix it so we can finish our stunt?"

"You have called upon my fix it powers," replies Soos solemnly. "I accept this call, Wendy."

"Huh?" she asks. "What call?"

Soos stood up, and replies "The call of POWAAAAAAAAAR!"

He threw his arms up, clenched his fists, and clip art lightning bolts appeared in his hands. Animal noises and rock music sounded as he dramatically yelled.

Dipper and Wendy, unaware of what would be included in editing, sit confused. "What's happening right now?" she asks.

"I'll show you guys later," Soos whispers. A picture of an evil bat flew around the room. "Oh no, a bat! Laser eyes, go!" He look at the bat with his eyes as red beams flew from them and caused the bat to turn into a discount explosion. Soos smiled at the camera as his amazing powers of video editing did their work.

"Still in the dark over here," says Dipper.

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The class split up into several groups to take notes on a chapter and then write them on the board for the rest of the class to read. One half of the class went to one side of the school house, the other went to Donella's side. No matter how they were split, she doubted she could find a single student here worth a full shilling. But especially not in the group she had the pleasure of sitting with.

Donella picked up her bags, and moved to another desk to work with the girl with poor fashion taste, and the Gossip Gaggle. They were their own stereotype; triplet sisters with naturally curly blonde hair that the fellas adored, eyebrows that were plucked and smiles that were erased and redrawn, and voices that bubbled incessantly like champagne from an uncorked bottle. They flaunted exactly different styles of clothing (perhaps to express their 'individuality,' or lack there of), and had a way of making shyer peers uncomfortable in their insistent presence. Namely, those who'd really rather be ignored.

"Heeey, Izz-aeee!" yelled pretty Prissy, dressed all in a flowery pink skirt and stainless white accessories.

"How've ya been?" fake-drawled Missy, wearing cow girl attire that didn't look authentic since it lacked dust and work stains, and was spotted with sequins.

"I heard you were out with some guy earlier this week," smiled Sissy in her gray stylish secretary suit. She was wearing a pair of matching frames, but Donella knew they were purely an accessory and that she was neither visual impaired nor intelligent. "Care to tell us who it was?"

"J-just a friend and his mom," replied Izzy hesitantly. "He fixed the vehicle I was driving last week, so I, uh, I … just bought him dinner to thank him, ya know?"

The Gaggle giggled. Donella loathed them so much it hurt her eyes to look at them.

"So, uh … what page was this chapter on again?" redirected Izzy.

"Oh, could you write our notes for us, Iz?" asked Prissy. "I left my textbook at home again."

"And you have the best handwriting," added Sissy.

As Izzy added their names to their collective notes, Donella saw for herself that Sissy lied.

With an obnoxious "Oh. My. Gosh!" Izzy jumped in her chair, and Prissy jabbed a finger at the page. "Is that how your name is spelled? Is-annah?"

Izzy collected herself, and said, "Actually, it's pronounced 'Eye-sannah."

"Ah-sannah?"

"_Eyes_-annah." She pointed to her own four eyes as she enunciated.

"Then why do we call you 'Iz?'" asked Missy.

" … Because I don't want to be called 'Eyes,'" replied Izzy sheepishly.

"Like 'Four Eyes?'" chuckled Sissy. "Four Eyes!" She laughed so loudly the students o nthe other side of the room looked over at them. "Oh, my, gosh, guys, I am sooo funny today!"

_Subtlety must run deep in the family,_ Donella thought.

While Isannah took notes and tried not to look at the other girls in her group, Donella snuck a hand into her satchel, and removed another crisp. She had several bags of them stashed away in the satchel. She had already been called out in class more than once on account of eating in the middle of lessons. But for her, it couldn't be helped,; she just had to feed constantly. Donella knew that she could live with constant reminders and lectures from professors about class participation. She also knew that she couldn't live without food.

After a few minutes of note taking, Isannah excused herself to the bathroom (though Donella didn't understand why Americans didn't just call it a toilet since they no bathtubs), and left the group. Huddling together in a vulture fashion, the triplets spoke in whispers none too low or discreet, and couldn't stop to hear a whole thought from each other. But it didn't matter, since they were all talking about the same subject.

"Ohmigosh! I can't stop laughing – "

"Her hair – those clothes – "

"_Those_ socks with _that _shirt! I mean, it's horrible but just too funny – "

"I mean, she didn't have a sense of style to begin with, but this just proves that – "

"And I think those glasses were actually really the real – "

"She must_ really_ love Jesus to wear that in public!"

"OMG! I would die if I were her – "

"We're living the smart way. I'm so glad our parents raised us agnoscious – "

"I think that's 'agnostic'."

"Or is it 'obnoxious?'"

"Oh, enough about that! What about her date with Simon – "

"Oh, that geeky clown with that clowny geek?"

"It was sure to happen sooner or later – "

"And considering that Simon just lost his old girlfriend, of course he would – "

"Those two sooo belong together – "

"Their kind can't really fit in with everyone else, you know – "

"I know, right? It's good that they found each oth – "

"Their personalities can only make more of their kind of perso – "

"Yeah, so it's good that they stay together – "

"So he doesn't have to ask me out!"

"Ewwww! You and Simon? GROSS!"

"I need to go use the toilet," Donella interrupted, already heading in that direction.

After listening to all that giggly trash talk, she felt like she was going to hurl.

_I can't believe the nerve of those … those … those trolls! Squawking and gabbling like self important peahens; giggling like a pack of hyenas; changing their shallow opinions as quickly as a puca changes it's form. _

_Oh, how I _loath_ them._

_At least I know that _I'm_ never that critical._

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Scene: The crew are outside the Mystery Shack, Soos and Dipper attired in jumpsuits, and Wendy laying on the couch on the front porch reading a magazine. The "Awesomeometer" stands behind Soos and Dipper, and the wrecked cart lays to their left.

"Time to fix the golf cart," explains Soos. "At the end of the show, Dipper and Wendy will rank my handymanship from one to ten." He whispers to Dipper, "Vote ten."

"Happy to do it, dude," Dipper replies. "Hey, do you think a girl would think I look … cool in this jumpsuit?" He chuckles nervously. "Ha – I mean – heh, heh …"

He glances at Wendy, who turns another page in her magazine.

Soos places an empathetic hand on Dipper's shoulder, and replies, "Some things even Soos can't fix."

Scene: A dirt lane leading to the Mystery Shack. The golf cart is mostly repaired, with the hood open. Soos is screwing a wrench by the fuel injector while Dipper paces nearby.

"Uh, looks like a problem with the fuel injector," remarked Soos. "Dipper, try the engine now." He backed up as Dipper hurried into the cart, and turned the ignition. The engine roared to life.

"Hey! You did it, man," cried Dipper.

Soos closed the hood. "My fix it power has been unleashed."

As Soos approached the camera, Dipper asked, "Why do you keep saying stuff like that – "

"Unleash the powaaaaaaar!"

As he hollered, the video shifted into a photo clipping that been chopped, cut, pasted, and repainted to show a night background with a large moon and several wolves, and a foreground of a pine forest and a white wolf (which was cut and repainted to appear to be holding a fist). Soos had edited the video so that his head was in place of the head of white wolf in the foreground and Dipper's head was on the moon.

Soos howled like a wolf, while Dipper just looked confused.

"Ooo ooo, oooo-oooooo!" howled Soos. "I'm not done yet. It's not quite as rad as possible. Time cut!"

Scene transition: "Fix it!" "Do it!" "Accidentally unscrew it!"

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It was the afternoon. Most classes were over, and most of the students returned home. But Donella had to remain into the evening to assist the English professor with reading and grading written works from the students. It was one of her intern duties, and one of her least favorite. She honestly feLT bad for the professor for having to read those stories, and worse for herself for having to grade them.

The assignment had been to write a short story in a modern setting with a fantasy element in it. Donella knew that she could write a collection of such stories without having to rack her brains for ideas. She had experience in the field. But it was apparent that no one here did.

_The stories all contain practically the same plot_, she complained in her notebook._ Girl meets guy who turns out to be a vampire, guy meets girl who turns out to be ordinary but their love ends tragically. Every story has a pathetic attempt at a sad ending, and is yet another tale on the college student's emotional, hormonal, and unimpressive existence. It's not like the story is supposed to be a faiery-tale or anything. Apparently life is nothing but depressing, and once you grow up, you can't write happy endings anymore. After I read these stories I want to scream "Stop reminding me!" _

Donella paused in her writing. She just had to take a break, just had to write her frustration out. She glanced over at the stack of papers on the professors desk, sighed deeply, and returned to her task. She was in the middle of the stack of ungraded papers and stories, proof-reading and checking off for mistakes so the professor could grade them with ease in the morning. It wasn't difficult to find any. The students could giggle behind their hands at her accent, slang, and use of grammar all they wanted; when it came to college grades, Donella knew she was better at English than the whole lot of them.

She wrote red marks all over Sissy's short story, which was essentially the _Twilight_ saga but with herself as the protagonist.

Donella wrote something at the bottom of each story as though she were a real teacher. She remembered the English professor advising her to be honest but tactful.

_Final comments: Unoriginal to the point of plagiarism. If I were you, I'd burn this story before the college board got word of it. They would expel you first for poor character and plot development then for taking the good writing of a popular author and tarnishing it for grades._

Donella figured that none of the triplets knew what the word "tactful" meant, and so wouldn't feel offended when they read her comments.

Missy's short story was just three paragraphs about a college girl who turned into a fairy and was whisked away into a fairy land.

No conflict, no build up, no antagonist, but plenty of spelling errors.

_Final comments: It's obvious that your own fairy powers don't include casting spells, because your paper has nothing but spelling mistakes. Your character would be ashamed to be written. But I'll compliment you on this: you're the only person I know to have misspelled the word "the" ten different ways. That takes a lot of little effort. _

Donella couldn't find a short story written by Prissy. But she already knew that Prissy "forgot" about the assignment. That was a disappointment; she already had some tactful things in mind to say to her as well.

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Scene: Outside the Mystery Shack. Dipper and Wendy stand on one side of the Mystery Cart while Soos holds a sheet over it, ready to unveil his masterpiece.

"Behold!" he exclaims, whipping the sheet off and having it fall over him.

"Whoa!" his customers exclaims.

The cart is trekked out. Car fins on the roof, ship's steering wheel at the front, a painted eighties style image with the planet earth and rocket ship in the background, and a leopard dipping it's paw into a river with a glowing eye that flowed toward a pyramid all on the back of the cart. Soos painted his name under the image in black.

While rock music played, Soos pumped a fist saying, "So let's make this jump!"

Scene: Soos is at the wheel driving the cart, while Dipper and Wendy are sitting in the passenger seat watching him drive toward the ramp.

"I don't think we have enough speed to make it," says Dipper.

"Hit the nitrogenous boosters!" cries Soos.

"Aren't those illegal?" asks Wendy.

"You bet your life they are, baby!" He slams a palm down on the center of the wheel, and the cart shoots forward at a higher speed. They all cheer and whoop as the cart rocket onto the ramp, and flew over Stan's car.

"We're clearing it! We're clearing it!" cries Dipper.

"So, what score do I get from one to ten?" Soos asks.

"Ten out of ten! Ten out of ten!" cry Dipper and Wendy.

"Thanks, guys!" cries Soos.

Then they felt gravity increase and the cart begin to descend. As they fell, Soos screamed "Ah, dudedu-dudewatchoutwatchout – "

Scene: The golf cart lands through the roof of the Mystery Shack over the Gift Shop. Dipper, Wendy, and Soos jumped clear before impact, but parts from the cart lay strew along the ground. Along with Soos.

Stan walks out onto the front porch. "Soos!" he calls, "I think the roof is broken! Can you fix it for me?"

Soos flips over, and gives himself a thumbs up. "I make my own economy."

The video ends with the image that was painted on the cart, but with Soos' head in place of the leopard's.

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When I got home, I heard that Soos made a new Fixin' It With Soos video, Wendy and Dipper almost crashed into the roof, and Mabel got a staple stuck in her braces from hanging fliers up in town. But I didn't even care.

After frightening a few customers off on my way in, I didn't bother to speak a word anyone. I just hurried up the stairs, and sat in my room, wanting to cry but not being emotional enough to do so.

Today was horrendous. I actually dared to hope that no one would say anything about my appearance, that no one would care. It had been too much to hope for. The professors kept sneaking glances at me as if I wouldn't have noticed with my limited vision. Priscilla, Melissa, and Cecilia just couldn't stop fawning over me and making me uncomfortable, and wouldn't help with the class work. I was tired of being in their persistent company as it was. And to make things worse, they know about me having a casual dinner with Simon, so rumors are going to float around about me and him. With what I was wearing today, it'll just ruin his reputation. His business even.

But that wasn't even the worst of it.

What rubbed salt into the wound was the dream I had this morning.

I had been attacked by monsters, threatened by wicked people, and lowered in pay. But having a single dream, a remnant of so many summer memories, was the one thing that made me want to go back. To return home.

I hadn't thought about home much at all the last few weeks. I was finally starting to miss it. To miss my house. Miss the waves and the sand and the beach with it's treasures. Miss my old high school friends and all the laughs we shared. Miss my family. My brothers. My mother. My father.

_Everything. _

_I miss everything. _

_Everything that I left behind. Everything that I love._

I sighed and flopped back on my bed. I rolled over and looked at the alarm clock by my bedside. Still stuck at a quarter to eight.

Why did it all have to go so fast when I was young? Why did it have to last so long today? Now I've ruined my name in college for the whole summer, I've ruined Simon, and – and … I just want to go home.

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Donella finally got to the bottom of the stack as the sunshine that was spilling through the school windows turned orange. She hadn't eaten anything in twenty minutes and was starving. But she forced herself to finish the task. _One last paper … _

She was going to skim through it, but the opening sentence drew her in.

Then the next one.

And the next one.

And then a whole paragraph.

Then another one.

And another one.

And another one.

After reading it one time through, she read it again.

And again.

Her pulse raced as she read through four pages of text. She forgot to check the punctuation, didn't bother with spelling, and for once, had no comments to leave.

She held the paper out under the waning sunlight. "H-h-how? How did – h-how did this – why – how is this possible?"

Her heart throbbed. Her gut dropped. "How does they know this – How could they know this? I never told – wait, who wrote this?"

She flipped back to the front page, and skimmed the top of the text.

"_She_ wrote this?! That Izzy girl? B-b-b-but how? How did she know any of that? I could never have told her. I never told anyone about myself."

She looked at the paper again. The words. The words that told everything. That knew everything she was.

As she tried to steady her breathing, her eyes fell on the door to the professors' offices. It was unlocked, but the only professor inside was napping and waiting for his evening class. Donella then knew what she was going to do.

She found the copier behind one of the teacher's desks, and copied each page as the sunlight waned outside. She then did a cursory glance over the original, found only two punctuation and one misspelling, and added a final comment at the bottom of the page:

_Please meet with Donella Finn after class is over. _

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As Donella finally left the schoolhouse on the hill, Isannah's original paper left on the stack of others, a copy of it in her hands, she headed in the direction of town to buy/steal dinner. She knew that she would have to wait at least a week for the next English class to be in session. But until then, she was looking into this odd character.

_I need to know how she knows so much about me. What does it mean? Who is she? _What_ is she?_

She heard her stomach rumble and picked up her pace.

_I should watch her carefully. She could be dangerous. In this town, who knows what she really is? _

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_A/N Hey guys, sorry for the unintended hiatus. I was just working on some future chapters and want them to be perfect. If I'm going to keep you guys waiting for more than a few months, I'll make sure to let you know next time. _


	23. Ch22:DD: Party Poopers And Party Poppers

Chapter 22: Double Dipper: Party Poopers and Party Poppers

I never thought it would happen.

Grumpy Grunkle Stan was actually throwing a party. The old man could surprise me sometimes.

We had been busy the last couple of days, anticipating all the fun to be had this weekend. Well, all except me.

I had assisted Soos earlier with setting up plastic chairs around the room and setting out the dance floor. And right now, I was finishing up hanging reflective stars, balloons, and strings of lights on the ceiling and around the door and window frames. Soos was placing party hats everywhere in the parlor, including the horn of the mounted rhino. Wendy was sitting on a plastic chair, boredly inflating balloons with carbon dioxide, and watching them sink to the carpet. Stan was looking between a clipboard and the room, searching out any missing details.

As I stood on a ladder, hanging another balloon in a corner, I hoped that no one I knew would arrive tonight. After the fiasco at school last Wednesday, I had been getting nothing but giggles and side comments from the Simpeltin Triplets. Everyone else was polite enough to not mention anything about it the rest of the week. If Simon heard anything about it, he didn't say anything. And I certainly didn't want to bring it up.

I was also still waiting on the prescription I ordered for new contacts from the local oculist. I couldn't wait to finally see the world with complete twenty/ twenty vision. I was afraid that I would trip over something below my range of frame vision and look like an idiot. Again.

"Oh no, Mabel," fake groaned Dipper. I turned my attention to him and his sister on the couch across the room.

"I – I don't feel so good. I – " He made a sound like he was vomiting, and fake-barfed pink silly string from a canister all over Mabel.

"Augh! Grunkle Stan, what did you feed us?" fake-groaned Mabel. She proceeded to fake-barf purple silly string all over Dipper's face. The two siblings barfed the silly string back and forth between the two of them, and laughed at their antics.

Stan didn't pay them any mind. He was too focused on my decorating work. He scratch his nose contemplatively as he inspected.

Looking over at the twins, I thoughtfully adjusted my glasses. _I should get one of those and join them._

Grabbing the last yet to be tied balloon in my hand, I made my way down the ladder, eager to participate. Until Wendy headed in their direction.

"Guys, guys! Stop!" warned Wendy. "Something terrible just happened!"

They sat posed, waiting for an explanation.

She whipped out a canister of her own, and pretending to barf, sprayed green silly string all over both of them. The twins giggled as she sprayed them. My grip tightened on the balloon, as I watched Wendy steal my opportunity.

Wendy continued trying to spray Dipper, while he shot at her with a party popper. Mabel found a bag of gold confetti, grabeed it, and started tossing the confetti around her great uncle.

"Comedy gold!" she cried.

Irritated, Grunkle Stan grabbed the party materials from everyone. "All right! All right! Party supplies are now off limits."

_She didn't even try to look like she was _authentically_ vomiting_, I thought, a little disgusted._ I could have done better. _

That was when the balloon squeezed in my hands slipped, and the air inside it released. It flew around the room, blowing a raspberry sound above everyone's heads until it landed on Stan's nose. His eyes fell on me.

My face turned red for the twentieth time that week.

"Oops?" I chuckled self-consciously. "Eh-heh heh."

Stan wasn't amused. "You're banned from all party supplies _and_ decorations. Until the party's over." He carried the party supplies into another room, grumbling, "I don't see why these kids think I like … "

I sighed, knowing I lost favor in another person's eyes. But the regret over Stan's loss was short lived as I didn't care much for his opinion anyway. For someone throwing a party, Stan didn't seem much in a festive mood. But knowing him, he'd feel happier once the money started stacking.

"Mr. Pines," called Soos. He was tying another stream of flags across the ceiling, and finishing off knot tied to a beam. "Who's birthday is it again?"

"Nobody's," replied Stan. "Thought this party might be a good way to get kids to spend money at the Shack," he explained, unrolling a "pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey" poster titled Un Burro.

"Nice," Soos replied with a thumbs up.

"The young people of this town want fun, I'll _smother_ 'em with fun," Stan vowed.

"Maybe comments like that are why kids _don't_ come to the Mystery Shack," said Dipper at the refreshments table, pouring Mabel a cup of diet Pitt soda.

"Hey hey!" Stan intervened, swiping the liter bottle away from Dipper's grasp. He screwed the lid back on it, and designated a new task. "How's about you make yourself useful and copy these fliers?"

Stan handed him a clipboard with a pink flier that read:

"Party At The Mystery Shack

Kids And Teenagers Welcome"

But between a picture of shaking party hats and a picture of a deer head was the question:

Free?

"Oh boy, a trip to the Copier Store!" cried Mabel excited.

"Calendars, mugs, T-shirts and more!" Soos listed."They got it all at the Copier Store! That's not their slogan, I just really feel that way about the Copier Store."

"Save the trouble," dismissed Stan. "You know the old copier in my office? I finally fixed the ol' girl up. Good as new."

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As Dipper pulled back the sheet covering the old copier in Stan's office, roaches scattered and sparks sizzled from the taped up wreck. It was coated in cobwebs and moths buzzed around disturbed by the sudden light and live electricity.

Mabel gasped at the flying insects. "Butterflies!"

Dipper lifted the lid to the copier, and peered at the dusted scanner. It looked like a spider hotel with the all the dusty webs hanging loose. "Does it even work?" he asked.

He tried a button, pressing it twice. Then glanced back at the flier in his hand.

He heard the scanner come alive, and he and his sister saw a green light scan Dipper's arm lying over the scanner. The machine sparked. Then shot out smoke. The twins coughed lungfuls of smoke. Blinking through the smoke, they watched the copier roll out a grayed picture of Dipper's arm.

Mabel held it up. "Success."

But then the sheet rippled and shivered. Mabel dropped it in fright.

The sheet fell to the floor, rippling and shivering. The pixels in the picture morphed from shades of gray to the natural colors of Dipper's skin and the color of his shirt. And then the arm, pulled itself free from the page.

Dipper and Mabel screamed. The arm stretched dramatically, and dragged itself towards them.

Dipper was armed only with his fear and his sister's plastic red cup of Pitt.

"Stay back!" he yelped, throwing the soda at it.

As the soda pop hit the arm, the arm bubbled, fizzled, and melted.

"Oh my gosh, Mabel," Dipper turned to his sister. "I think this copier can copy human beings!"

Mabel gasped. "Do you realize what this means?"

She pulled out her canister of silly string and vomited it all over her brother's face.

-Gravity Falls theme -

That evening before anyone arrived, Stan assembled everyone in the living room turned party room for further instructions.

"All right party people," addressed Stan. "And Dipper."

Dipper frowned in reply.

"Let's talk business," continued Stan. "Soos, because you work for free, and you begged, I'm lettin' you be DJ."

"You won't regret it, Mr. Pines," he promised. "I got this book to teach me how to DJ r-r-r-r-ight." Saying so, he showed him a book called "How To DJ R-R-R-Right."

Stan didn't smile. "Not encouraging."

He moved down the line. "Iz, since you've been banned from all things party related, you'll be doin' whatever else needs to be done. You know, stocking the refreshments table and such."

"As long as no one has to see my face, I will happily oblige," I replied, grateful for the position.

"And I thought Christians were people persons," Stan remarked. But he shrugged, and moved on to the next two gals. "Wendy, you and Mabel are working the ticket stand."

"What?!" cried Mabel. "But Grunkle Stan, this party is my chance to make new friends."

"I – I could work with Wendy," volunteered Dipper.

Stan turned to him. "You realize if you do, you gotta commit to stayin' at the ticket stand with Wendy. No getting out of it; just the two of you, _alone_, all night."

Dipper and him turned around. They watched as Wendy sprayed Mabel's silly string on Soos' belly to make a face. The two girls laughed when Soos' belly rolled to make the face appear to move, while Iz rolled her eyes and left the room.

But Dipper only had eyes for Wendy.

"I promise," he told his uncle.

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Dipper was getting ready for a whole evening alone with Wendy. He was trying on his bow tie that was part of the uniform for him tonight at the ticket stand. But he liked to think that he was dressing semi-formal for Wendy.

He was checking himself in the mirror in his and his sister's room, and reached over for the deodorant spray, when his twin popped into the mirror by him.

Dipper jumped with a scream, and dropped the spray can. He faced his sister. "What?"

"'Uh-uh-uh-I can work at the counter with you, Wendy,'" mocked Mabel. "'Let's kiss!'" She mimicked smooching sounds with her lips, air kissing an imaginary person.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want," replied Dipper adjusting his tie undeterred. "But _I've_ devised a plan to make sure my night with Wendy goes perfect." He gave his reflection a wink.

"A plan? Oh, you're not making one of those over-complicated listy things, are you?"

"Sh-over-complicated? Lemme just – " Her brother reached into his pocket, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. As he unfolded it, it grew wider, and wider, then longer, and longer, until it unfolded out into a quadra-fold sheet with a checklist. Mabel sat and slouched as Dipper explained his plan of action.

"'Step one,'" he read. "'Getting to know each other through playful banter.' Banter is like talking but smarter."

"That sounds like a dumb idea for poopheads," Mabel replied.

"Yeah, see, this _isn't_ banter. This is what I want to avoid with Wendy. The final step is to ask her to dance."

– Dipper could already imagine what would happen. In his fantasy, he was the tall fellow in a suit, dancing with the rapturous Wendy, dressed out in a lovely mint green gown. The two of them were in each other arms, slow dancing across the dance floor while Soos played a jazzy trumpet.

"Oh, Dipper," said fantasy Wendy. "I'm so happy you decided to work the ticket stand with me. You're so organized. Show me that checklist again."

As he pulled out the checklist, she seemed to grow faint with adoration. –

In the present time, Dipper was sure that everything would work. "If I follow steps one through eleven, nothing can get in my way."

Mabel look at the bottom of the list that showed at least nine extra steps that could be taken. "Dipper, _you're_ the one getting in your way. Why can't you just walk up and talk to her like a normal person?"

"Step nine, sister." Dipper pointed to step nine on list, which did indeed, say to "talk to her like a normal person."

Mabel just rolled her eyes. Her brother was impossible.

RU LMOB RG DVIV GSZG VZHB GL Z XIFHS

I carried another box of unused party supplies upstairs to the empty room in the attic. I knew that I was banned from them, but I needed an excuse to not be downstairs in the party room. A couple of Wendy's friends had shown up, and I was tired of seeing them do dumb rebellious things.

But I was also tired of Wendy. She would probably find some way of getting herself into the party despite her job assignment (Dipper promised to stay there, not her), and I didn't want to see her any more than my classmates.

I turned a corner, and found the open doorway to the empty room."That Wendy – " I paused, straddling the box as my glasses slid down the bridge of my nose. I leaned on corner of the box against the door frame, and slid them back up. "Who does she think she is, anyway?"

I dropped the box unceremoniously atop another one by the window seat. "Getting the twins into danger, stealing my thunder, showing me up for being safe by trying to be 'cool' for the kids."

A couple of party poppers popped, releasing confetti into the air. As well as all over my face. I understood now how Stan felt.

"I mean, why do they have to love her so much?" I grumbled, gathering the exploded confetti. "I try to protect these guys, and all she does is put them in danger. And they don't even care! They're all like 'Oh, Wendy, you're so cool, will you marry me?' and 'Gee, Wendy, you're so much fun, can I braid your hair?'"

I found a party popper that had fallen from a box, and removed it from the floor. As my anger was building, so was my clenching grip on the popper. "'Hey, Wendy, since they love you so much, why don't you just take my job like you've taken their love?'!"

POP!

The party popper blew from both ends. I didn't even know that was possible.

And like that, my anger was spent.

I sighed, and tossed the popper and wasted confetti into a nearby trash bin. I slumped against the window seat, forehead in my hands.

_It's just that … I've lost so much that I took for granted in the last couple of weeks. My good name, the idea that I could live away from home without missing anyone or anything from there. I don't want to lose the twins too. _

_They're the family I need now._

I walked to the other side of the room where a broom was, and continued with cleaning the confetti. As my glasses slid down my nose again, a finger shoved them back into place.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair to me.

"Oh, guys …

Why do you haaave to look up to her,

Aside from in a literal sense?

Don't cha knooow that a power that big

Comes with a bigger expense?"

As I reached for a dust pan, I remembered the day she brought us to the roof, took Dipper and Mabel to the Dusk 2 Dawn, and all her other delinquent behavior. They shouldn't look up to someone like that.

"And can't you see

That she's out of control

And over zealous?

I'm telling you for your own good,

And not beca-ause I'm … "

I flushed, trying to deny the very idea in my mind. But my heart knew it was true.

Dumping the confetti in the trash, I sighed with melancholy. I couldn't deny it. I was probably, perhaps, maybe, at least just a tiny, teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy, little bit jealous of Wendy's influence.

But it was more than that.

"I could show you how to be strooong …

In the real way.

And I know that we can be stroong …

In the real way.

And I want to inspire you,

I want to be your rock,

And when I talk

It lights a fire in you."

That was all I really wanted. Was it too much to ask for?

"Oh, Iz!"

I screamed with alarm, and spun around to face the intruder. But as I did, my heel slipped on some unseen party item, and I found myself falling backward into the box of party poppers. Some of them set off, shooting confetti into my hair and up the back of my shirt. As smoke rose from the exploded poppers, it set off the sprinkler system in the room. My glasses became spotted with water, then slid completely off my wet nose and retreated somewhere in the box.

So much for not looking like an idiot. Now I felt like one, too.

Squinting through the wet confetti rain, I tried to see who it was that barged in on me. My vision was twenty/two hundred (or was it two hundred/twenty?). I couldn't read the eye chart if it was under my nose. Mostly because I was far sighted.

"Who's there?" I demanded.

As the water works ceased spraying, the blurred figure gasped."Oh no, Iz. Not _again_."

I knew that voice. "Mabel?! Wh-why-why are you here?" I tried to push myself out of the box, but sprinkler water, along with the combined weight of me and the party popper box caused the box of party streamers underneath me to sag and collapse. "Ahh – pfff!" My teeth clacked as my box sank to the floor.

Water streamed into my eyes, but I wiped them out of habit. "Shouldn't you be downstairs? At the party? With Wendy – and everyone else?"

Mabel didn't move. "I heard you."

The water works ceased spraying. There was no way out of this one. She heard me. Every word.

I struggled to sit up among the damp poppers. "I-I can explain. I swear, it's not what it sounds like …"

"It sounds _exactly_ what it sounds like," ruminated Mabel.

I sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry, Mabel. I – I didn't want to tell you guys because … I thought that you would think that I'm a bad person."

"A bad person?" she asked me. "I'd never think that of you."

What did she mean? She didn't mind that I was jealous of Wendy?

"You really don't?" I asked, sliding back into the poppers and setting another one off under my pants. "Excuse me."

"Of course not."

_What? _"But – but, I was – I mean … the whole thing with the – the – "

"Not with a gorgeous voice like that!"

"Huh?"

"Where did you learn how to sing like that?" she asked, giving me her hand to help pull me out of the box. "I didn't know you could sing."

So she didn't hear my tirade. Well, at least I was better at _something_ than Wendy. "Well, my parents are musicians, and my mom took several years of opera lessons, so, ya know, stuff happens …"

"I have no idea where that song came from, but you sang it so well."

"So, you weren't paying attention to the lyrics? At all?"

"I can listen to them at the party!"

That brought my mental victory dance to a halt."What now?"

She found my glasses, and handed them to me. When I placed them back on, my vision was clear, but smudged with water and finger prints.

"Come on, sing that song on karaoke for the party! Everyone will love it! Soos can find it somewhere – "

"Oh no no no, I can't sing!"

Mabel looked confused and gave me puzzled look.

I tried to redirect my statement."Besides, I don't really like that song anyway."

"Then you can sing a different one. Any song!"

"What?! No no no no no no! You don't get it – I'm _not_ singing! Not in front of all those strangers – some of whom I know better than others. A-and besides, I've never done a good solo act. My singing experience is limited to choir and praise band; singing with _other_ people."

"But look at me! I did none of those things and I can sing in front of everybody."

"You didn't try to sing _Danny Boy_ for solo at a karaoke club with the whole senior class watching you lose your pitch and forgetting how to breathe properly."

"Come on, please, Iz," she pleaded. She actually got down on her knees, and hobbled on them toward me. "It will just be one song, and then it'll be over before you know it. Please?"

Even though I was looking at her, I tried not to look directly at her face. Her eyes could make me do anything she wanted.

But as I tried to divert my attention from her face, I thought, _She really admires me for my voice. Maybe this is the opportunity I wanted to get myself back into their hearts. And if I do well, anyone from class who sees me will know that I'm more than just a failure at dressing up._

I glanced back at Mabel, who looked like her eyes were going to pop out of her head from puppy-eye staring at me for so long.

"All right, I'm in," I told her.

"Yes! Whoo-hoo! Come on, get dried off and dressed up in some party clothes! We need to pick out your solo song!"

I let Mabel drag me by my wrist, already questioning the consequences of my decision. After leaving the room, another party popper burst in my wake.

Z KZIGB KLKKVI LI Z KZIGB KLLKVI?

The disco ball was rolling. The lights were flashing. The music was playing. Everyone was ready for a good time.

Soos was enjoying every minute of being a DJ, just as everyone else was enjoying almost every minute of dancing.

Mabel gazed out at the party from atop the landing of a staircase. She was attired in a party style, with a huge red bow in her hair, green triangle dangling earrings, and a pink sweater and an orange skirt. She hoped for a chance to find some friends tonight, whoever they might be.

From behind a curtain on the landing danced out Stan, dressed in brown slacks, and an open collared white shirt that revealed his gold chain and gray chest hair.

He danced over to the railing, and asked Mabel "Can your uncle throw a party or what?"

Meanwhile, Soos was trying to perform his DJ job, but had some issues on the soundboard.

"The energy! It's electric!" He fumbled around his sound keyboard, looking between his book on rapping and the keys, pressing one after the other. "Uh – lightning! Lightning … lightning … lightning …" Every sound could be heard but the one he wanted.

"And if anyone wants to leave," Stan remarked to Mabel, "I'm charging an exit fee of fifteen bucks."

Down on the dance floor, Lee and Nate were searching desperately for cash.

"We've only got thirteen," counted Nate.

"We're trapped!" cried Lee.

The two friends slammed their fists against the windowpane behind them, pleading for help.

Meanwhile, outside that window, Wendy and Dipper were managing the ticket stand. They both wore their usual dress save for the bow ties they each wore as they sat at the table, taking cash and handing out tickets. They each had a bowl of popcorn to hold them over for the night while they did their job.

Dipper glanced nervously around, and back at Wendy, who tossed popcorn into her mouth. He leaned on the side of his chair that was opposite Wendy, and unfolded his Wendy Plan checklist.

"'Step one: casual banter,'" he read.

He sat back upright, started speaking. Whether if they were actual words, he could never remember. "So here's a casual question," he coughed. "What's your favorite type of snack food?"

"Oh-ho, man, I can't just pick one," she replied.

"No way! Mine too!"

"Wait, what?"

Dipper realized his mistake too late. "Uh, I mean … I mean – "

He shoved an oversized amount of popcorn from his bowl into his mouth and chewed. He had to stop talking. Luckily, Wendy had to grab more money from new customers and didn't question his actions.

Dipper swallowed the snack food, coughed, and looked over the list again. "New topic! New topic!" he whispered frantically, coughing on corn kernels.

I stood behind the refreshments table, watching Mabel dance, Soos fumble, and everyone mostly having a good time. Mabel insisted that I wear something other than the obligatory bow tie for my services, so I put on a pair of bellbottoms that I forgot I owned, and a tie-dye T-shirt. It was as party-hardy as I wanted to get.

"Hey, can I get a cup of soda?" In reply to the request, I pulled up one of the diet Pitt liters to pour, but the voice said, "Uh, I'm sorry, do you have one that's not diet?"

"I think we … Simon?!"

"Hey, Iz," replied my friend. "This is a great party. Did you pull this together?"

"Uh-um, w-we all did. Or our boss would deduct our pay," I chuckled nervously. "Here, let me go back into the kitchen and look for your soda – "

I practically leaped through the door frame. _Good gravy, why does he have to be here?_ I groaned mentally, throwing a hand to my forehead. I turned back, and peered around the frame at the party guests.

A lot kids. Some teenagers. Thompson. No one college aged, though.

I exhaled. If things stayed the way they were now, I wouldn't have to worry about anyone expecting me to fail onstage. I returned to my task.

Back inside on the dance floor, Mabel was snapping her fingers and grooving to the beat. "Go go! Work it! Work it!"

She walked herself off the dance floor to an empty chair, and took a swig from a water bottle. She was having the time of her life.

Mabel glanced at the brunette girl sitting next to her. Or rather, that girl's shoulder. An iguana's yellow eyes stared back.

"Wow! You've got an animal on your body!" she remarked to the girl next to her. "I'm Mabel."

"Hi, I'm Grenda," replied the girl in deep mannish voice She held a bowl of popcorn in her lap, and seemed just a little shy. "This is Candy," she gestured to the Asian girl beside her.

Candy lifted a hand, revealing each finger to be taped to a fork.

"Why do you have forks taped to your fingers?" asked Mabel.

To show why, Candy stuck her hand into the bowl, and removed it with a kernel on each fork. "Improvement of human being," she replied.

Grenda fed a kernel to her pet, who grabbed it with it's tongue. The two friends giggled.

The two girls pleased Mabel. "I've found my people."

I returned back to the pounding music and flashing dim lights with Simon's non-diet Pitt. I walked around the perimeter of the dance floor toward the table where he was waiting. But like the soda bubbling in the bottle, I felt my stomach bubble with anxiety. What if I couldn't do this? What if I froze? What if I forgot the next lyric even though I could read it?

_The last time I tried something like this was a total failure. The notes were too high; they were beyond my range. I wasn't loud enough either. I didn't suck in enough air to project properly. Everything I learned in choir class just went out the window. _

_And the worst part is … _everyone_ saw me. _

I shoved the bottle on the table before I shook it too hard and it exploded like the poppers.

_I can't do this. I have to tell Mabel to call this all off. Singing for her sake isn't worth losing my nerve and what little dignity I have left._

"It's a little shaken up," I warned Simon in a shaky voice. "But just wait a minute, and – "

"There you are, Iz!" I felt a hand grip my own, and my wrist being wrenched behind me.

"Talk to ya later, Simon!" I called as Mabel dragged me across the dance floor to the other side of the room. She paused us in front of a large, muscled tween with an iguana on her shoulder, and her friend with forks on her fingers.

"Meet my new friends!" Mabel introduced. "Grenda, and Candy. Grenda and Candy, this is my Summer Sister, Iz."

"Uh … 'sup?" I greeted.

"Cool shirt," remarked Grenda, shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth. I tried to pretend that I wasn't surprised at her masculine voice.

"Your name is a linking verb," remarked Candy, adjusting her glasses between forked fingers. "You bring people, places, things, ideas, and actions together." She linked her forks between her hands together saying so. "That is very special."

"Oh, well, th-thank you," I replied, blushing slightly. I never looked at my name that way before. No one had.

I tried to sound somewhat intelligent and polite myself. "Your name sounds so … sweet? It reminds me of sugar, and-and spice, and … all things nice! I'd like a name like yours."

She giggled bashfully, and stuck her hand inside the popcorn bowl again.

"She's gonna sing a solo tonight," Mabel added.

_Oh no. I need to tell her that I'm bailing!_ "Uh – um," I coughed slightly, " – ahem – habout that – I, uh … "

"You are?" cried Grenda. "Hey everyone! This girl's gonna sing a solo later. You should watch her!"

With a voice as deep and as loud as Grenda's, everybody heard. Some of the kids just shrugged the news off, others half-heartedly clapped or cheered for me.

"Yeah, Iz! Go for it!" I found Simon cheering my name from across the room.

And I knew that I couldn't back down. I couldn't disappoint both Mabel and Simon. I'd be striking two birds with one stone and expecting them to not feel the sting.

_Get your act together, Iz. At least four people are gonna be watching you and cheering you on. Do it for them._

I took a breath, and tried to settle my stomach. _Remember who you're doing this for._

Soos at the DJ stand was trying to follow through his instructional book as closely as he could wile he made an annoucement. "Remember dudes, whoever, um … 'party hardies?' – what? – Gets the party crown." Saying so, he held up a plastic bejeweled crown for the winner of the party competition. "Most applause at the end of the night wins!"

Mabel and her new friends gasped in awe, and looked at me.

"What, you want me to dance, too?" I replied. "I'm not the competitive type."

But then, a clique of tweens sporting name brand clothes and wearing too much make-up for children their age walked to the DJ desk. The leader, a blonde wearing sunglasses, stepped up, removed her glasses, and checked her reflection in her compact.

"Party crown?" she asked. She held out an entitled hand. "I'll take that, thank you very much."

I never saw this chick before, but I already knew her type.

"Who's that?" asked Mabel.

Candy adjusted her glasses again, and replied, "The most popular girl in town, Pacifica Northwest."

"I'll only feel bad about myself around her," said Grenda.

"It's girls like her that make me ashamed to be a blonde," I agreed.

"Uh, I can't just give you the crown," explained Soos to Pacifica. "It's sort of a competition thing."

Pacifica chuckled in pompous sort of way. She took hold of the cordless microphone on his desk. "Honestly, who's gonna compete against me?" Her voice could be heard throughout the room from the mic. She turned towards Mabel's group. "Fork Girl? Lizard Lady?"

She laughed with a condescending tone, and her friends laughed with her.

To Grenda and Candy, it was of course no laughing matter. "Hold me, Candy," Grenda begged.

"Our kind isn't welcome here," agreed Candy, taking hold of her friend in a hug.

Mabel couldn't believe the nerve of that blonde. She was determined to defend her new friends, for they were just like her. If Pacifica was going to attack them, she was attacking her as well.

These poor girls! I was angry enough to compete just to watch her cry when I out did her singing. But Mabel marched right up, and shut Soos' laptop on his table so he would catch her face. "Hey! I'll compete!"

Grenda and Candy gasped but smiled. So did I. "Yeah, Mabel!"

Mabel decided to try to be friendly with her competition. "I'm Mabel," she said holding out a hand for Pacifica to shake.

Pacifica ignored the kind gesture. "That sounds like a fat, old lady's name."

I marched right behind Mabel. _Be the bigger blonde. Be the bigger blonde_, I simmered.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Mabel replied with no sign of hurt or defense.

Pacifica saw then that she was dealing with someone who wasn't easily hurt. But she wasn't gonna let this … weirdo beat her. "May the better partier win," she replied in a sassy tone.

She snapped her fingers, and she and her friends slowly backed up and disappeared into the shadows of the room.

"Nice meeting you!" waved Mabel. Her friends followed behind us uncertainly.

Still smiling, Mabel said, "She's going down."

DZGXS LFG, KZXRURXZ!

Outside at the ticket stand, Wendy and Dipper were swarmed with business. Kids and teens waved their money impatiently, waiting to get inside and join the party.

The music could be heard pounding through the pane of the window behind the two of them.

"Whoa, sounds like the party's getting nuts," remarked Wendy, as she took another patron's bill and exchanged it for a ticket. She and Dipper glanced back inside the window at the party inside.

"Let the battle for the party crown begin!" announced Soos.

On the dance floor, Mabel was throwing her all into her dance moves.

"Mabel comes out strong," remarked Soos. "Watch out, Pacifica!"

Someone whistled, and cheers could be heard from the two friends sat outside.

"I've gotta get in there!" said Wendy. She turned to Dipper. "Cover for me?"

Dipper chuckled nervously, unsure how to reply. "Um, well, I – "

"Thanks, man." Winking and flicking the bill of his hat, she left him to join everyone else on the dance floor.

Dipper glanced bleakly at his checklist, then back in at the party. He turned back to the table, and switched a sign that read "OPEN" to "CLOSED."

"I'll be back shortly," he informed the line of party patrons. He straightened his bow tie. "Sure Stan won't mind if I'm gone for a few minutes."

Before he take a step away from his job though, a hand pulled him back by the collar of his shirt.

"Hey!" Dipper turned, and saw his great uncle holding him on the cuff. "What are you doing, kid? These suckers aren't gonna rip themselves off."

Some of the kids waved their money impatiently and an angry one yelled an affirmative "Yeah!"

Stan placed Dipper down, and reminded him of his duty. "You promised, remember?"

"I did?" asked Dipper. He obviously didn't remember.

In response, Stan pulled out a tape recorder, and replayed Dipper's exact words when he took the job at the ticket stand: "I promise."

Dipper rubbed his arm awkwardly, feeling guilty over his choice of words but knowing he had to live up to his vow. Stan backed away slowly, then seemed to walk away, then turned back to check Dipper, then left for good. There was no getting out of this one.

Sighing despondently, Dipper turned the sign around from "CLOSED" to "OPEN," and the eager hands of admission fees returned to harbor over the table.

Dipper looked back at the window behind him. He could hear Wendy cheering and having a good old time. Without him.

Sighing with frustration, he thought. "If only I could be two places at once."

A breeze blew by, fluttering copies of the party fliers behind him.

Then an idea hit him, and he smiled. It was perfect. _But who's gonna cover for me while I – _

That was when Iz walked out the door. "Hey Dipper, why is Wendy on the dance floor? Isn't she _supposed_ to be out here – "

"Iz, can you cover for me at the ticket stand?" he called.

"What? Right now?" I asked. "But I'm gonna be needed – "

"Please, Iz! I'll only be gone for a few minutes," he said.

I glanced at the growing line of party participants. Still no one in line who I could recall.

_Well, I'll only be needed for cleaning up and for the karaoke solo, and that's all at the end of the competition. _

I heard someone whoop, and glancing back in the door, watched as some Lee shook up the liter of Pitt soda I brought in and squirt it at Thompson's face. Nate stood behind the table for cover, and cheered "Thompson! Thompson!"

Knowing that Stan would want someone to take care of the mess, I made a fast decision.

"I've got you covered, Dipper."

"Thanks! It'll be back here for the rest of the night! I promise!"

Smiling, he ran inside. I half wondered if he was ditching me out here. But I didn't have much time to focus on that possibility. Hands hovered over the table as I quickly swap bills and coins for tickets.

YLGS ZIV HSRIPRMT GSVRI IVHKLMHRYRORGRVH; ZMW GSVRI WVHRIVH.

Dipper opened the copier, climbed on the scanner, and lay back across it. He reached behind his head, pressed the copy button, and waited.

"I wonder if this is a good idea?" he suddenly thought.

In a burst of smoke and sparks, the copier came to life, and the scanner turned green. It flashed and followed Dipper's form from bottom to top. Creaking, it rolled out a black and white copy of Dipper's back, and slipped to the floor.

As Dipper got up and look at the paper copy, it rippled. Then the copy's arms bent and pulled up. Dipper's copy knelt and flashed from black and white into Dipper's diluted color scheme. Then, it stood to it's feet.

The copy turned around, and faced the original.

"Whoa … " remarked Dipper. "I have a really big head."

WLM'G UOZGGVI BLFIHVOU


	24. Ch 23:DD: A Solo Act of Ten

Chapter 23: Double Dipper: A Solo Act of Ten

Dipper and his copy faced each other, unsure how to react.

"So … uh, " they both said.

"Oh, sorry, you first," they apologized.

"Stop copying me," they chuckled. Dipper slapped his knee at their humor. His copy tried to do the same, but banged his arm on a metal filing cabinet. "Ah- ha-ah – h-ow, ow, ow! Funny bone!"

Dipper noticed that his copy's hat didn't have the pine tree emblem that his own hat had. This detail gave him an idea.

While his copy rubbed his elbow, Dipper approached him with a marker, and drew a number "2" on his copy's hat."I will call you 'Number Two'."

"Definitely know what name I've always wanted?"

"'Tyrone,'" they said knowingly.

"OK, Tyrone," said Dipper. "Let's get down to business. I'm thinking, you cover me at the ticket stand, while I ask Wendy to dance."

"I know the plan, buddy."

With that said, they both unfolded their own copy of the plan to dance with Wendy. But Dipper gave Tyrone a suspicious glance, and took a step back. "Hey, we're not gonna get jealous and turn on each other like the clones in the movies, are we?"

But Tyrone knew better than to admit to anything. "Dipper, please! This is you you're talking about. Plus – hey! You can always just disintegrate me with water."

"Yeah." They pointed to their heads.

"_Yeah_." They pointed to each other's heads.

GDL SVZWH ZIV YVGGVI GSZM LMV.

As agreed upon, Tyrone was working the ticket stand. After passing out another ticket, he glanced through the window at Dipper on the dance floor. He gave him a thumbs-up, and Dipper returned it. He took a breath, and let it out.

He was ready. Both of him were.

Casually, he strolled over to Wendy, humming a tune and moving to the music.

"Great news, Wendy. I got somebody to cover the concessions for me."

"That's awesome! You can hang out with me and Robbie."

Dipper paused abruptly in his dance.

Robbie stepped off his dirt bike as she reintroduced them. "Robbie, you remember Dipper from the convenience store."

"Uh, no," he replied boredly.

Dipper wished he hadn't forgotten about Robbie.

"Yo, Wendy." Robbie slung his guitar case off his shoulder. "Check out my new guitar." He strummed a few chords, and gave her his rare smile.

"Whoa, cool," she replied.

Dipper gasped. – His imagination played out the same dance scene fantasy he had, but with Wendy dancing with Robbie instead.

"Robbie," said Wendy, "You're a stupid, arrogant fraud. But kiss me anyway because you can play guitar. Oh wait!" She broke their embrace. "I forgot something."

She walked over to Dipper, bent down on his level, and punched him in the gut. Dipper felt the wind knock out of him, and fell over like a tree.

"Let's get married tonight!" Wendy cried to Robbie. –

Dipper's walkie-talkie buzzed in his pocket. He answered on the second ring.

"Hey buddy, it's me: you," said Tyrone. "I just had the same jealousy fantasy."

Dipper turned to the window where Tyrone was looking in at the party. "We gotta get rid of Robbie if I ever want a dance with Wendy," Dipper whispered through his mouthpiece.

"Hey Dipper," called Wendy. "We're gonna go sit on the couch. Meet us when you're done."

As she and Robbie left, Dipper became urgent. "Oh no! They're sitting on the couch! We gotta think of something quick!" He looked over his shoulders, seeking some inspiration. His eyes lighted upon Robbie's parked bicycle. "I got an idea."

"I got the same one," confirmed Tyrone. "But we're gonna need some help."

He was about to leave his post when –

"Whoa – Dipper, you're not leaving me are you?" He turned back and looked at my raised eyebrow.

"You promised me you would be back here for the rest of the night."

"I did?"

I pulled out a tape recorder from a back pocket of my bellbottoms, and replayed his exact words: "I'll be back here for the rest of the night! I promise!"

Dipper crossed his arms. "Since when did you get a tape recorder?"

"Since I started working for Stan." A new round of customers swarmed the table, but I kept my focus on Dipper as I exchanged change for tickets. "Now what are you doing that's so important you can't handle the concession stand? And did you get a new hat? I don't remember you wearing one with a number – "

"Wh-wh-what's so important that _you_ can't handle the ticket stand?"

"Sheesh, you don't have to be so defensive. I just have to be in there after the competition is over to give a solo singing act."

"Oh yeah, forgot about that."

"And if something is so important you can't stick to your commitment, can't you tell me what it is?"

"I'm, uh, h-h-helping a friend, yeah! He's trying to ask a girl to dance and he needs me to help organize a plan of action."

As the last customer waltzed in with a date on his arm, I glanced at Dipper, and raised my other eyebrow in mock surprise."Really? Gee, that's too bad. I saw Wendy talking with one of her friends. She might already be taken."

"But the party isn't over yet! I can find some other way to ask her – " But he slapped a palm over his big mouth.

"Knew it," I deadpanned. The line of party-goers had disappeared inside the Shack, and left me to focus on my broiling emotions. I almost wished that Stan had more business.

Dipper blubbered. "I-I-I just need some more time! Please, Iz! This will be the only time – besides, Stan said to close up shop when no one else arrives so we can – "

"Just go already!"

Dipper paused."Really?"

"Yeah," I muttered, crossing my arms and looking away. "Go have fun."

Dipper didn't even seem to acknowledge my tone he was so happy. "Yes! Thank you, thank you Iz! I'll make it up to you."

I tried to chuckle as he hurried inside and the door slammed. "Let's see if that's a promise you can keep."

Then it was just me, myself, and my attitude.

The scenery around me of shadowy pines, musky animal scents, and fading twilight was almost foreboding, but the music behind me was too upbeat to match the overall tone. It left me feeling confused on how to feel. And made me realize that I was trying too hard to distract myself from my problems.

LMV HXVMV GIZMHRGRLM OZGVI …

After another copy rolled out of the machine, Dipper wrote a number "3" over the blank space in his cap. Tyrone sat on Stan's desk and watched Dipper at work.

"... And that's where you come in, Number Three," Dipper explained to his new helper.

"But what if Robbie catches me?" asked the new copy. "I'll be all alone."

Both Dipper and Tyrone understood and decided that at least another one would be good to have.

"Four Dippers. This is a four Dipper plan," asserted Dipper as he climbed back onto the copier.

Both of his copies sat on Stan's desk as the copier scanned him. But a burst of smoke followed by a stream of beeps came from the machine, and Tyrone husseled fix the issue. "Uh oh, paper jam!"

He tugged the crumpled paper loose and laid it on the floor. But unlike the other copies, the paper-jammed Dipper rippled free and squaked incoherently, crawling all over Tyrone. "Nah na nam nam nam nam! Aaaah! Aaa – " it quacked out a series of coughs that sounded like a duck.

"Come on, you're not gonna make me partner up with _him_, are you?"cried Number Three with disgust.

"Shh! Don't be rude!" scolded Tyrone as he cradled the fourth copy. "Hey, buddy, hey! It's OK."

Paper-jam Dipper screeched more sounds, and grabbed at Tyrone's mouth and the bill of his cap like an infant.

"OK, just one more clone," decided Dipper.

WLM'G HGLK … YVORVERMT!

A surprisingly chilly breeze blew by. I shuddered, hugging myself. Turning around in my chair to face the window, I looked in on the party. I found Simon by the refreshments table, laughing over a plastic cup as he joked with Thompson. Part of me longed to be in there with everyone else. Another part of me knew I would rather be out here.

Especially since Pacifica was singing.

"Always me-eans forever," sang Pacifica on stage. "Al-waaaaaaaaays!"

As she sang, a man's red plastic cup of soda shattered like glass. I didn't have to have a Physics course to know that shouldn't be possible.

The crowd cheered as Pacifica's solo ended. "Forever," she ended.

Mabel and her friends stood by the stage, feeling intimidated.

"I used to sing like that," remarked Grenda. "Before my voice changed."

"Pacifica pulls ahead!" announced Soos.

As Mabel took the stage, the blonde rich kid shoved the microphone at her. "Try and top _that_."

Mabel took the microphone, but Pacifica had to add a final comment. "Oh, Grenda, by the way, you sound like a professional wrestler." She exited with haughty laugh, and left three scowling faces behind her.

"I wanna put her in a headlock and make her feel pain!" cried Grenda.

"It's not over til it's over, sisters!" said Mabel. "Watch this."

She walked to center stage. "Soos! Give me the eighties-est, crowd-pleasing-est, rock ballad-est song you got!"

Soos switched karaoke songs through a remote, and hit on the classic song "Don't Start Unbelieving."

"Excellent," smirked Mabel as her song played.

"Don't start ... unbelieving!

Never don't not feel your feel-ings!"

The crowd erupted in cheers and waves.

Mabel put her all into her performance, swinging the wired microphone wildly over her head.

"I'm gonna do a flip!" She jumped, and face planted the stage. "That was for you guys!"

Her act garnered more cheers and crowd approval. One girl even swung from the disco ball in her enthusiasm.

If I had known that she was starting now I would have told Dipper to find another replacement so I could cheer her on.

"Go Mabel!" I cheered outside. "Show that princess what the middle class is worth!"

Soos was enjoying Mabel's performance, until Dipper approached him. As Soos bent to hear him above the music, Dipper whispered to him.

Soos spoke into his microphone. "Dudes, would the owner of a silver and red dirt bike please report outside? It is being stolen right now."

From the couch, Robbie lost his unimpressed composure. "Wait – what?!" He hurried to the window overlooking the concessions stand and peered through it.

I nearly screamed and fell over when Robbie's face glared into view. And not just because he was wearing makeup. But I turned to look in the direction where he was looking, and sure enough, a couple of kids were riding away on his dirt bike.

Number Three and Number Four chuckled as they stole away into the evening.

"Hey, come back here!" yelled Robbie, as he ran through the open door. Stan didn't notice him and forgot to charge him his fee. And I didn't stop him.

"At least you have an excuse to not be here," I muttered.

ULI LMXV, R UVVO ULI BLF, ILYYRV. SZERMT BLFI YRPV HGLOVM RH Z GIZTVWB.

"Aw, tough break," remarked Dipper. He was sitting an armchair of the couch by Wendy. "I wonder who those guys are that aren't me 'cause I'm right here."

"Now we're gonna bring it down for a minute," announced Soos. "Ladies, dudes; now's the time." He adjusted the sound board, and played a slow dance song. Couples paired up as a love song smoothed it's airways through the speakers.

"Aw, snap!" said Wendy. "I love this song." She rocked sideways to the slow easy rhythm. Dipper hugged his knees, scratching one a little awkwardly. Then Mabel approached him.

"Hey, goofus! Now's your chance to ask Wen – "

Dipper slapped a palm across her mouth before anything more could escape. He backed the two of them away from the couch, and released his sister's mouth.

"Now's your chance to ask Wendy to dance," Mabel finished.

Dipper removed his checklist from his vest to look it over. This wasn't in the plan.

"Come on!" Mabel shoved him toward the couch. "Go!"

"I – ah ..."

Wendy had her back turned toward them. She didn't seem to notice him.

Dipper took one large step forward. Then another. Then another.

Then many more quickly away.

"Duh – Iiiiiii'll be right back!"

YZXP GL GSV WIZDRMT YLZIW.

I must have been sitting alone and sighing to myself at the concession stand for at least twenty minutes. Just sitting and feeling angry with Wendy. And myself.

"What's wrong with me? I thought I was over this. I know that she isn't trying to show me up or anything, but …"

I sighed, and gazed up at the sky. It was moonless, but stars were beginning to bedazzle the sky.

"The only reason why I wanted to even do this was to … I don't know, prove something. But what? That I'm good at something? So is she."

I turned around and gazed back inside at the party through the window. The slow dance had ended and Wendy was talking with her friends Nate and Lee. They laughed at a joke I couldn't hear.

_How come I'm not having fun like that? It's not because I'm out here by myself._

I turned around and took a cursory glance of the driveway and pine forest around me. No other patrons were visible.

Smiling, I reached over to flip the "Open" sign to "Closed."

I was relieved. Other than Simon, no one else from school showed up, so now I could perform without any –

"Three tickets, please."

A hand and three bills smacked the center of the table. I followed the arm to it's owner's face, and found that I was seeing triple. The Simpletin Sisters.

"Heeey, Izzz-annah!" called Sissy, a foot away from my face.

"What are you doing here?" asked Missy. "Shouldn't you be inside?"

"You don't work here, do you?" prodded Prissy.

I wasn't about to scream that fact to the world. "Well, you know, i-i-it's just that – "

"It's not your fault," Prissy replied. "You're from out of state. You didn't know any better."

I couldn't tell by her tone if she was telling a joke with a straight face, or if she was dead serious. Either way, I felt offended.

"Prissy, shut up!" shoved Missy. "It was your idea to come here in the first place."

"We can still get in, can't we?" whined Sissy. "Can't we?"

I'm sure it was illegal to refuse customers their service, even if a reputation hung in the balance. I wordlessly passed them their tickets.

"Thanks!"

"Like, you're the best!"

"Let's go find someone to dance with … "

They sauntered through the door. Before I could flip the sign, a shadow fell over the table. When I looked up, I nearly slammed my forehead into the table.

In front me stood a line with the rest of the Gravity Falls Community College student body.

DSVM LM TLVH LFG, GSVB ZOO TL LFG.

Dipper and Tyrone paced around each other in his bedroom. Both trying to figure out a new solution. A new plan.

"Oh, I agree," said Tyrone. "You can't just go and dance with her."

"The dance floor is a minefield," exasperated Dipper. "A minefield, Tyrone!"

"What if there's a glitch in the sound system?"

"Stan might get in the way."

"Robbie might come back."

"There's too many variables! We need help."

Back to the copier.

Dipper left no room for error. He made multiple copies to save time and increase production, and drew up a plan B with even more steps. His copies all worked in teams or separately and conferred on each of their plans together. This time, they were all determined nothing could go wrong.

At last, Dipper tapped a lantern to his copies' attention.

"All right, Dippers, gather around."

Eight more of him filed into lines to hear him.

"Now's the time. You all clear on what to do?"

They nodded in unison.

Then filed downstairs to initiate the new plan.

XOLMV GILLKVIH ZIV NZIXSRMT RMGL KLHRGRLM …

Step 1: Distract Soos to get control of the soundboard.

Number Ten went up to Soos with a laser pointer. "Hey Soos, look! A glowing dot!"

He pointed to the wall behind Soos, pressed the button on his green laser pointer, and let Soos do the rest.

"Oh man, I am so glad I turned my head," said Soos as his eyes followed the green light. "That dot does not disappoint."

He tried to catch the dot against the wall with his hands. While he was distracted, Number Ten slipped in a CD labeled "Wendy Mix" into Soos laptop.

Step 2: Set the mood.

Number Ten gave a thumbs up at the ceiling, and Number Seven returned it. He sat on a joist in the ceiling, and placed a pink light filter over one of the lights in the ceiling, then signaled a thumbs up below to Number Five. He drew the shades down over a window, and gave a thumbs up to Number Eight, who sat perched on a beam in the ceiling.

Step 3: Keep Stan out of the way.

Number Eight held a fishing pole with a dollar bill on it's hook. He lowered the reel over the snack table where Stan was loading his plate with marshmallows. He glanced up and saw the bait.

"Right," he rolled his eyes. "Like I'm gonna fall for that."

He placed a couple more marshmallows on his plate.

Then dived at the dollar.

He knocked over the snack table, and leaped up to follow after it. The bill was reeled away into another direction.

"Gimme that money! Money!"

Number Eight lead him away into another portion of the room away from the dance floor.

Step 4: Alert Dipper.

Number Six watched Stan chase the bait, and then tugged on a rope dangling from the ceiling. It lead to a bell tied to a beam in Dipper's room, and chimed.

"There's your cue," said Tyrone as he straightened Dipper's tie. He pushed him supportively out the door. "It's the perfect moment to ask Wendy to dance. Good luck, me."

"I don't need luck. I have a plan."

Dipper hurried out the door and down the stairs. He was confidently turning a corner when –

He gasped.

"Oh, hey man," said Wendy. She still held her plastic cup and was leaning casually on the corridor wall."What's up?"

This wasn't a part of the plan.

"Wh – what are you doing here? I mean, wouldn't you rather be out on the dance floor – uh, in like exactly forty-two seconds?"

Wendy gave him an odd look. "I'm just waiting for the bathroom."

"Um, uh, OK, uh – " Dipper pulled out his plan B. "Small talk. Small talk, small talk!"

"So, hey – " Wendy said. "Let's say everyone at this party gets stuck on a desert island. Who do you think the leader would be?"

What to say? What to say? "Iieeee – huh, uh – "

"I think I'd go with this lunatic."

She gestured to a guy in office dress on the dance floor, who was pumping his fists so hard he was sweating from every pore.

Dipper chuckled. Then he glanced at his plan, and pocketed it.

"I'd probably go for Stretch over there," he replied. " Uh … because tall people can reach coconuts?"

He gestured to a tall guy moonwalking across the dance floor.

Wendy giggled at his response. "Speaking of tall, you wanna see something?"

She handed him her cup, and pulled out her wallet. She opened it up to a photo of her and three young boys. But she kept a thumb over her profile's face.

"Those are my three brothers. And I'm …boooop." She slid her finger away, revealing herself tween self above the average height of a girl her age.

"Ha! You were a freak!" laughed Dipper. Then slapped a hand over his mouth as though he uttered a profanity.

But it didn't offend Wendy. "Yee-up."

Dipper smiled, and scratched the back of his head. "You know, kids used to make fun of my birthmark before I started hiding it all the time."

"Birthmark?"

Dipper flushed. "Uh – No! It's nothing! Uh – I wa – I wa – " He groaned. "Why did I say that?"

"No way, dude. Now you have to show me. Show me! Show me!"

Dipper downed the rest of Wendy's beverage, removed his cap, and lifted his bangs.

There was a birthmark on his forehead, in the shape of …

"_The Big Dipper_," breathed Wendy. "_That's_ how you got your nickname. I thought your parents just hated you or something. Hey, I guess we're both freaks."

She offered Dipper her cup. He blushed, lifted a cup left on the floor, and tapped it against hers.

As they chuckled, Pacifica stormed out of the bathroom and back into the party.

"Wait here?" asked Wendy.

"Of course." As she closed the door, Dipper heard an angry voice. "Hey!"

He dropped his cup in alarm, and turned around. There stood six of his other copies.

"What are you doing up here?" demanded Tyrone. "Number Ten has been distracting Soos for fifteen minutes; he's gonna get tired of that dot eventually."

"Never!" called Soos.

"You won't believe it, guys!" replied Dipper. "I bumped into Wendy accidentally, and things are actually going great."

"That's nice, but not the plan." He pulled out his copy of the new plan. "Do we have to remind you?"

The other copies pulled out their own copy of Plan B, all agreeing that Dipper wasn't complying.

Dipper never thought he would feel this way but … they were being ridiculous.

"Oh man, you guys sound crazy," Dipper realized. "Look, maybe we don't need the plan anymore, you know? Maybe I could just go talk to her like a normal person."

His copies gasped.

"You bite your tongue!" said Number Seven.

Number Five spoke next. "If you're not gonna stick to the plan, maybe you shouldn't be the Dipper to dance with Wendy."

The other copies assented their agreement with him.

Dipper didn't like where this was going.

"Guys, come on. We said we weren't gonna turn on each other."

"I think we all knew that we were lying," replied Tyrone darkly.

Dipper's copies surrounded him in a pack. Then Numbers Five and Six grabbed Dipper's ankles, and dragged him down the nails scraped the floor as he screamed in fear.

GSV IVYVOORLM HGIRPVH!

_A/N Hey guys! I can't apologize enough for the late release of this chapter. I've had it prepared for weeks, but never had the time to proof-read it and update the story until tonight. (This semester tanked me!) Thank you for your patience; I'll update a chapter ahead of time if it looks like it will be on hiatus for longer than a month. Thank you for reading!_


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